Two Agents Afloat
by Laine3112
Summary: A disastrous undercover mission and a lucrative job offer have Tony contemplating leaving NCIS. Gibbs takes him away from DC on his yacht to help him make his decision.Pursued by a vengeful crime boss and stranded at sea. Will they be found in time?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N:- **The premise and early chapters of this story were written pre- Judgement Day so Jenny Shepard appears as Director.

Also, this story has a colossal geographical error in later chapters, concerning the type of island and vegetation Gibbs and DiNozzo encounter off the New England coast. The error was made quite innocently and should be easy to overlook in favour of the story – but if you're an absolute stickler for perfection – consider yourself warned. L

**Oo00oO**

**Two Agents Afloat**

**Chapter One**

The cool temperature of the Autopsy room turned Tony's skin to gooseflesh as he sat, bare-chested, on one of the tables. He sat quietly as Dr Donald Mallard performed a thorough examination.

Ducky had already established that Tony's vitals were fine and was now gently prodding Tony's right cheekbone and around his right eye. The swelling had gone and only slight bruising remained.

"Tell me, Anthony," Ducky said. "How's the pain? I don't suppose you bothered to take your pain medication?"

"Pain's fine, Ducky," Tony answered in an unusually subdued tone. "Stopped taking the pain meds because I didn't need them."

Ducky was not pleased. "Seriously, Anthony, you're as bad as Jethro," he scolded gently. "It is not a sign of weakness to admit to pain! A broken cheekbone and fractured orbital are very painful injuries."

"I know, Ducky."

"Any more problems with the vision or headaches?" the doctor enquired.

The effects of a serious concussion that had lingered much longer than usual had troubled Tony.

"Vision's fine now," Tony replied. "Still get the occasional headache."

Ducky began pushing and probing his gentle hands over Tony's ribcage and stomach.

The vivid purple and black bruising Tony's body had sustained a few weeks ago had faded to a yellow – brown colour.

"Ducky," Tony protested. "I'm telling you, I'm fi…!"

He flinched as Ducky's fingers located a still painful area around his collarbone. The medic eyed him sceptically.

"You don't look fine to me, my boy!" he admonished. "These bruises haven't even healed yet and your clavicle is still quite tender! I think you should have another weeks medical leave."

"Ducky, _please_!" Tony pleaded, "I've been on sick leave for six weeks! I'm going crazy at home."

"Very well then, but you're on light duties only," Tony opened his mouth to complain but Ducky continued. "Anthony, I will not clear you for field duty until that clavicle is properly healed. I want to see you here, same time next week and we'll review your situation."

"Okay, Doc," Tony answered, resigned to the fact that he would be deskbound and paperwork laden for a week or two.

Gibbs had been standing by the door, unnoticed by Tony and Ducky and determined to ensure that his senior field agent did not attempt to return to work before he was fully healed. Watching the easy interaction between the two men, his famous gut was telling him that something wasn't quite right but he couldn't put his finger on it. As Gibbs walked further into the room, Tony grimaced.

"Looks like I'll have the chance to clear that backlog of paperwork you've been nagging me about, Boss!"

"I wouldn't have to nag you, DiNozzo, if you spent more time working and less time torturing McGee," Gibbs replied with the barest hint of a grin. "You're on research and cold cases for the rest of week! Thanks, Duck!"

Gibbs turned on his heel and headed for the elevator. "You coming, DiNozzo?"

"On your six, Boss," Tony replied struggling back into his shirt as he ran to catch up with Gibbs.

Once in the elevator, both men looked straight ahead at the closed doors. Tony shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other before opening his mouth to speak.

"Don't say it, Tony," Gibbs said gruffly. "Ducky said another week and that's that!"

"Gotcha, Boss, another week," Tony agreed.

That's when it hit him! Tony had readily, almost eagerly accepted his decision not to return to field duty. Normally, he had to fight Tony tooth and nail to keep him from active duty. The elevator doors opened and both men stepped out into the bullpen.

"Tony!" Abby squealed with delight as she charged across the room to pull him into a tight hug. "I've missed you!"

A small high-pitched whimper escaped his lips at the force of the impact on his not quite healed collarbone. Abby stepped back quickly

"Are you alright?" she said worriedly. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Abs," Tony gasped through clenched teeth, "and I missed you, too!"

"Hey, Tony, good to have you back," greeted McGee

"Thanks, Probie," Tony said attempting his usual megawatt grin but not quite getting it right, "it's good to be back!"

He walked to his desk then looked around the office. "Where's Ziva?" he asked.

"I am here," the soft voice answered directly into his ear as she appeared, suddenly, very close behind him.

He jumped a little before hissing. "I thought I told you not to do that!"

"Do what?" she said innocently.

"That sneaky, ninja, stealth…stuff," he replied. "Creeps me out!"

She smiled flirtatiously as her eyes slowly traversed his body from head to toe, enjoying his obvious discomfort.

"It is good to have you back, Tony," she said while returning to her desk.

"If you're all finished ass-grabbing over there," Gibbs grumbled, "maybe we could get to work!"

He allowed himself a tiny grin as the younger agents scurried to their desks to resume working. Several minutes later, Gibbs glanced quickly at Tony. Despite his efforts to maintain his normally cheerful persona, Gibbs noticed dullness in the younger man's expressive green eyes. Something definitely wasn't right.

Returning to work after an extended medical leave could be a little difficult for some but, in the past, DiNozzo had been jumping out of his skin to return as quickly as possible. The slow and steady DiNozzo was not what Gibbs was expecting. He decided to watch him for a day before broaching the subject with him.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Gibbs hung up the phone and looked up at Tony.

"DiNozzo, with me," he called, "the Director wants to see us!"

McGee looked quizzically at Ziva.

'_Surely the Director couldn't be sending Tony on another undercover assignment so soon? He's barely recovered from the last one!_' he thought.

"Probably just wants to thank me personally for a job well done on the Burgess case." Tony gloated. "Or maybe she wants to discuss some kind of performance award. Maybe a commendation….or to pass on the thanks of a grateful nation."

"Today, DiNozzo!" came Gibbs' annoyed voice from the landing, rousing Tony from his rambling.

"Coming, Boss!" Tony said, rushing after Gibbs.

As Gibbs entered the office, Cynthia, the Director's secretary, looked up from her desk.

"Good morning, Special Agent Gibbs," she said in a crisp and professional manner.

When Tony approached, her professional pleasantries immediately bloomed into a beaming, genuine smile.

"Hey Tony!" she gushed. "Welcome back! How are you feeling?"

Gibbs couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Can we go in?" he asked, slightly irritated.

"Oh, of course," Cynthia said. "They're expecting you."

Gibbs and Tony exchanged a silent glance acknowledging the same thought.

'_**They're**__ expecting us?'_

Opening the door and striding into the Director's office, Gibbs was only mildly surprised to see FBI Senior Agent, Tobias Fornell and another Agent, seated with the Director at the conference table. The Director introduced FBI Agent, Robert Jeffries to Gibbs and Tony. Gibbs immediately felt the tension in the room, which could mean only one thing – trouble.

"You better not be here asking for another joint op, Fornell, cause he's still recovering from the last fiasco," Gibbs said nodding his head in Tony's direction.

"Relax, Gibbs," Fornell replied, "That's not why we're here."

Tobias Fornell turned his attention to Tony.

"Good to see you, DiNozzo!" he said, pronouncing Tony's surname with the correct Italian inflection.

Tony didn't speak, only giving a brief nod in reply.

Gibbs looked to Jenny Shepard for answers and saw her grim expression as she gestured towards the empty chairs.

"Please sit down, gentlemen."

For the second time in less than a minute, Gibbs and Tony communicated silently with a look that told them more trouble was brewing. They took their places at the conference table and looked expectantly at the others, waiting for someone to speak.

After a short, uncomfortable moment, Jenny broke the silence.

"As you know, FBI Agent, Paul Monroe, was DiNozzo's undercover partner on the recent joint operation. At a critical moment in the operation, their covers were compromised."

Gibbs interjected looking accusingly at Fornell.

"We only agreed to this op because you assured me Monroe was one of your best undercover operatives. Then, after weeks of lead up work and a month deep undercover, he panics, blows the whole op and Tony was nearly beaten to death!" Gibbs said, barely containing his anger.

Fornell looked Gibbs directly in the eyes, stating calmly. "I told you before Gibbs, nobody was more sorry than me about what happened to DiNozzo!" he said. "I worked with Paul Monroe for 15 years. I don't know what happened to make him react the way he did but I can assure you, Paul Monroe was one of the best!"

Tony had remained uncharacteristically quiet to this point. His head snapped up at Fornell's last words.

"Was?" Tony asked.

"Yes, Tony," Jenny said gently. "Agent Paul Monroe took his own life yesterday morning."

What little colour Tony had, leeched from his face and he turned to Fornell and Jeffries.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I got to know Paul pretty well during the op. I liked him." He paused thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "All the evidence we collected, the documents and the transcripts – there was enough there to put Burgess away for 30 years, right? Hopefully, Paul will be remembered for his part in getting Burgess off the streets."

The silence was almost deafening before Jeffries cleared his throat and spoke.

"That's why we asked for this meeting." He took a deep breath before adding. "It seems there was a procedural error made while issuing the warrant. The warrant was made out to the incorrect address. It has been voided and all evidence obtained is now inadmissible."

"Burgess' lawyer had him out of jail and on a plane to The Maldives within an hour of the Judge's ruling," Fornell continued

"The Maldives has diplomatic relations with the USA but no extradition treaty," Jenny explained.

Fornell nodded his head and looked at Tony. "I'm sorry, DiNozzo, I know the work you put into this case and what it cost you, personally."

Tony felt like he'd been kicked in the solar plexus, he drew in a ragged breath and rose to his feet.

"DiNozzo?" Jenny said.

"Excuse me, Director," Tony replied softly. "I…I need some air!"

He left the office and headed back to the bullpen in a daze - his mind was spinning.

'_Is that it?'_ he asked himself '_Weeks of preparation, a month working undercover, the constant fear of discovery, the pain, the death of Paul Monroe – all for nothing!'_

He walked back into the bullpen and barely heard his partners as they gently jibed him.

"Let me guess," McGee began. "They want to hold a parade in your honour."

"Oh no, McGee," Ziva joined in. "Something a little more permanent. When I think DiNozzo, I think erection. Maybe they will erect a monument, yes?" she said, purposely using the double entendre.

Tony walked right past his desk and headed for the elevator.

"Tony?" McGee called worriedly.

"Tell Gibbs I've gone for coffee," Tony said as the elevator doors closed and he was gone.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Gibbs was livid as he rose to his feet, the veins in his neck distended as he struggled to keep his voice level.

"What the hell are you guys from the Hoover Building running, Fornell?"

Fornell's faced flushed with colour as he fought to control his own embarrassment and anger.

"In case it escaped your notice, Gibbs, _**I**_ don't run the Bureau!" he said matching Gibbs menacing tone. "It was a stupid, unforgivable mistake and I'd fix it if I could but it's done!"

"You mean _two_ stupid, unforgivable mistakes, don't you Tobias?" Gibbs continued "The one that put a low-life like Burgess in a first class seat to The Maldives and the one that nearly cost the life of my agent!"

Fornell was on his feet now, his battle with his anger lost, as he and Gibbs stood almost nose-to-nose. "It _**did, **_indirectly_**, **_cost the life of my agent or have you forgotten?" he hissed.

"Since this is a joint operation, I want Ducky to do the autopsy!" Gibbs continued.

"Not a chance in hell, Gibbs," Fornell snapped back. "Monroe was an FBI Agent. His autopsy is being conducted by his own agency. Right now as a matter of fact."

Gibbs opened his mouth to object further but Fornell continued.

"I'll agree to your people getting a copy of the autopsy and forensic reports, but that's it!" Fornell said.

"What about the physical evidence?" Gibbs pushed his luck.

"Maybe," Fornell said, "but only when we're done with it. Tell me Gibbs, if this was one of your agents, would you turn his autopsy over to another agency?"

"Not if I was hiding something," Gibbs taunted.

Fornell's face flushed with anger. "You know, you really are a bastard!"

"So I've been told!" Gibbs answered.

"That's enough, both of you!" Jenny said brusquely then looked at Gibbs.

"Agents Fornell and Jeffries did not have to come here and advise us of this personally."

Gibbs scoffed, not breaking his staring contest with Fornell. "They did if they ever want co-operation from this agency again," he said.

Jenny ignored the comment and turned to Fornell with and outstretched hand.

"Thank you for coming, and please accept my condolences on the loss of Agent Monroe."

"Thank you, Director," Fornell said, shaking Jenny's hand, he and Jeffries moved towards the door. Fornell threw a final look over his shoulder. "Gibbs," he said in goodbye as he left the office.

Gibbs called after him. "We'll need those reports by this afternoon, Fornell."

Fornell slammed the door behind him.

Jenny stood with her hands on her hips. "Always the diplomat, Jethro."

"Really perfected that inter-departmental ass-kissing, Jen," he said sarcastically.

"On the contrary, Jethro," she said with the hint of a smile, "just covering our bases in case it's _us_ that needs _their_ agency's co-operation in the future. We don't want to burn all of our bridges."

Her expression turned to one of concern as she changed topic. "I'm worried about Tony? Did Ducky clear him for active duty?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Another week. Put him on light duties!" he told her "He sure as hell didn't need this, though!"

Jenny nodded in agreement as Gibbs left her office.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Gibbs strode purposefully into the bullpen, stopping suddenly as he noticed Tony's vacant desk.

"Where's DiNozzo?" he asked

McGee looked up from his computer. "He, ah, said to tell you he went for coffee, Boss," he answered.

"Damn it!" Gibbs muttered before heading out to look for him.

"Boss?" McGee called after him. "Is there something wrong?"

The elevator doors were closed and Gibbs was gone before McGee got an answer. He exchanged another concerned look with Ziva, who voiced her frustration.

"I think we have been let out of the coop!"

"Loop, Ziva," McGee corrected. "_Left _out of the _loop_."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Gibbs walked quickly around the corner to the coffee shop. He spotted Tony sitting alone at one of the sidewalk tables and silently joined him. Without speaking, Tony gave a nod to the waitress who brought two fresh coffees to the table. He gave Gibbs a small grin.

"Thought you could use a hit of caffeine."

In the bright sunshine, the bruising on Tony's pale face was more noticeable. He looked tired and drawn but there was something else that Gibbs had never seen on his face before. Tony looked defeated.

"You alright?" Gibbs asked

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "I'm tired, Boss!" he replied flatly. His eyes locked on to the rim of his coffee cup as he continued "I'm tired of the days, weeks, _hell,_ the _months_ we put in to get these guys off the streets, only to see them walk away. I'm sick of pretending to be one of them so I can infiltrate their organizations. I'm sick of the pain, the fear and the death. I'm sick of it all, Boss."

He lifted his gaze to meet Gibbs' "I don't think I can do this anymore – I don't think I _want_ to do this anymore."

**-oo00oo-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Two**

Gibbs took a long draught from his coffee, his eyes never left the pale face of his agent.

"You mean that?" he asked.

Tony nodded his head. "Yes…no…I think so," he said, his confusion was obvious. "Boss, I just don't think I can do this anymore."

As they sat in silence, Gibbs berated himself for not heading this moment off when he had first seen the signs. Tony had been in intensive care for 5 days following the savage beating at the hands of Burgess and his associates. He was released from hospital after two weeks and spent the next four weeks at home, recuperating from his injuries.

When he wasn't at work, Gibbs had spent most of his free time with Tony, ensuring that the younger man was eating properly and recovering his physical strength. His normally hyperactive senior field agent usually did everything in his power to rush his return to work – he avoided the pain medication that made him sleepy and always overdid his physical therapy.

This time had been different. Tony willingly took his pain meds and slept for long periods each day. He was going through the motions, doing only as much physical therapy as he was asked - no more. For the first time in his career, he had taken the entire recommended medical leave without objection or complaint.

With the exception of giving his statement, Tony had never spoken of the undercover assignment or the beating that nearly cost him his life. He had one compulsory session with the department shrink but his undercover skills and his ability to hide his true feelings were more than enough to convince the psychologist that he was not suffering from any lingering emotional trauma and he was cleared to return to work when he had recovered physically.

"You need more time, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. "I can get your leave extended, give you time to clear your head."

"I've had six weeks, Boss, I haven't thought about much else," Tony replied.

"You came back to work, Tony," Gibbs said. "I think if you'd really made up your mind, you would have already submitted your resignation."

"Maybe," Tony admitted.

"This have anything to do with Monroe's death?"

Tony laughed humourlessly. "This has _everything_ to do with his death, Boss! He was a good agent and a good man. Sure, he made a mistake and the operation went to hell but he didn't deserve his life to end like that," Tony's voice was steady but his hands had started to shake. "We got the evidence. We got the job done and Burgess should be rotting in jail not getting a tan in The Maldives. It wasn't Paul that let us down it was the legal system. I'm done, Boss, I've had enough!"

Gibbs sat quietly, waiting for Tony to regain his composure before he asked.

"What would you do?"

"Buddy of mine is an Associate Professor at Georgetown Uni," Tony said still staring at his coffee. "Said there's an opening in the Criminology Dept. He told them of my police and federal agency background. They've offered me a consulting position."

When Gibbs didn't respond, Tony raised an eyebrow and prompted him for his opinion. "Boss?"

Finishing his coffee with one last gulp, Gibbs replied. "Three weeks in front of a blackboard and you will be climbing the walls to get out."

"You saying you don't think I could do it?" Tony asked

"Oh, I know you could do it, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied honestly. "But you are a federal agent and a damn good one. You really think you can walk away from that?"

"You did," Tony said quietly.

"And I came back!" Gibbs replied.

Gibbs watched as Tony toyed with his napkin and avoided eye contact. He was not convinced that Tony had completely thought his options through.

"Have you already taken the job, Tony?" He asked, unconsciously holding his breath while he waited for the reply.

"No, Boss," Tony replied flatly. "They gave me another week to decide."

"Then take the week off. Get out of DC and clear your head. Then promise me you'll base your decision on the good work you've done since you entered law enforcement and not just on the last op," Gibbs said.

"Boss, I don't.."

"Wasn't a suggestion, DiNozzo!" Gibbs said. "You got some place quiet you can go to think things through?"

Tony shook his head and Gibbs was thoughtful for a moment.

"An ex-CO of mine has a beach house right on Wineglass Bay. I was planning to sail the boat up there, see how she handles," Gibbs said. "It's a full day's trip by sailboat. I'll take you up, stay the night, then I'll sail her back and you can stay a few days."

"You finished your boat?" Tony asked.

"Yep," Gibbs answered.

"Ah, Boss," Tony asked hesitantly. "How'd you get it out of the basement?"

Gibbs grinned then, without answering he stood, peeled a few notes from his wallet and paid for the coffee.

"Go home and pack what you need," he said. "I'll clear the extra leave with the Director and call the Colonel about the beach house. I'll pick you up at 0600."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Upon his return to the building, Gibbs walked directly to Jenny's office, ignoring Cynthia's exasperated look. Jenny listened with concern as Gibbs explained Tony's situation and the possibility that they could lose DiNozzo's services forever.

Jenny agreed to extend Tony's leave. He was on light duties anyway so the team was already a man down in the field however she was quite surprised when Gibbs requested a week's holiday leave for himself. He rarely, if ever, took leave that wasn't the result of serious injury and hospitalisation – even then he had to be threatened by an irate Medical Examiner to ensure he didn't return to work too early.

She silently marvelled at the lengths he would go to for his people. He had always been particularly fond of DiNozzo. He could see a lot of himself in the younger man. He'd mentored him, advised him, balled him out, bailed him out, protected him, been proud of him and been infuriated by him. He had watched his back and Tony was one of a select few that Gibbs trusted implicitly to watch his own back

Jenny was sure that Gibbs would do everything in his power to persuade DiNozzo to stay but this time, the offer of a 9 to 5, well-paying position at Georgetown University may just be enough to lure Tony away from Gibbs' team and NCIS.

Gibbs walked back into the bullpen and found Ducky, Abby, Ziva and McGee in an anxious huddle. The news of FBI Agent Monroe's suicide had reached them and they were all obviously concerned at Tony's quick departure from the building. They were waiting anxiously for Gibbs to tell them what was going on.

"Ziva, McGee, you're off rotation for a week," he said, ignoring the surprised looks.

"What's going on Boss?" McGee asked. "Where's Tony?"

"DiNozzo has been granted another weeks leave. You two will be working cold cases and catching up on any overdue reports and paperwork until I get back," he told them.

"Get back?" Abby asked with concern. "Where are you going? And where is Tony? Is he okay? Cause he didn't look okay when I saw him this morning – I mean, he said he was fine but I know he isn't fine, even though he said that he is – fine."

"I must agree with Abigail, Jethro," Ducky said. "The boy still isn't himself, even after six weeks leave. Is there anything we can do to help?"

" 'fraid not, Duck," Gibbs replied. "DiNozzo has had a job offer from Georgetown University to work as a consultant in their Criminology Dept. He's seriously considering taking the job."

He looked at the shocked faces surrounding him.

"My word that would be a splendid opportunity for Anthony," Ducky enthused. "The chance to impart his wealth of law enforcement experience and knowledge on the youthful, eager minds of the Georgetown student body."

"If it's all the same to you, Duck, I would rather he kept imparting his experience and knowledge here with us," Gibbs said.

"Tony, a teacher?" McGee said incredulously.

"It is a job for Tony DiNardo, not for Special Agent Tony DiNozzo," Ziva pointed out.

"No! He can't go!" Abby sobbed as she wrapped her arms around Gibbs' neck. "Tell him he can't go, Gibbs. We need him here and he needs us! We're family!"

"I'll do my best Abs," Gibbs said, untangling her arms from around his neck. "We're sailing my boat to Wineglass Bay tomorrow. I'll stay the night with him and leave him there for a few days to think things through. Whatever happens, I'll see you in a week."

He gathered his things from his desk and walked towards the elevator, stopping abruptly to add.

"Ducky, Fornell will be sending a copy of the autopsy and forensic reports for Agent Monroe. If you haven't got them by 5pm today, have the Director send him a reminder."

Ducky nodded his understanding and Gibbs turned back to the elevator.

"Gibbs, Gibbs!" Abby pleaded. "Bring him back, okay?"

The elevator doors closed and Gibbs was gone. McGee turned to face the others with a quizzical look on his face. Always the analyst, he said.

"Is anyone else wondering how he got the boat out of the basement?"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

At the insistence of his attorney, Frank Burgess had just completed a long flight to The Maldives. The FBI had filed an appeal with the High Court to have the decision to void the warrant overturned. If the appeal was upheld Burgess was out of their reach in The Maldives. If the appeal failed, Burgess would be free to return without fear of arrest. Tired and inconvenienced, he was not in the mood for bad news when he answered his cell phone.

"Well?" he said.

"FBI Coroner has ruled death by suicide," the other party replied.

"Good…that's very good,." he said with a self-satisfied grin. "No problems?"

"No, Sir, copies of the autopsy and forensic reports are being sent to NCIS this afternoon but that's just a formality in joint agency operations."

"And the other one?" Burgess asked.

"Reported back to work today - he'll be riding a desk for a while with agents all around him. Might take a day or two to set this one up."

"Make sure there are no mistakes," Burgess said. "I want him taught a lesson, then I want him disposed of."

"Yes, Sir," the other party said before the call was disconnected.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

McGee looked up from his computer as an unknown man wearing a visitor's pass, entered the bullpen carrying a large file.

"Can I help you?" McGee asked.

"I'm looking for Special Agent Gibbs or DiNozzo," came the reply.

"They're out of the office. Perhaps I can help. I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee."

"Don't think so," the man said. "My Boss said if I don't give this file to Gibbs or DiNozzo, I needn't bother coming back."

"Your Boss?"

"Yes, Agent Fornell…I'm Agent Robert Jeffries, FBI," he replied showing his ID.

"Right," McGee said. He nodded towards the file Jeffries was carrying. "That must be the autopsy report on Agent Monroe. I heard Gibbs tell our ME to expect the report this afternoon. I'm, er, sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. Paul was one of the good guys." Jeffries replied solemnly. "But if I don't deliver this report to Agent Gibbs and Fornell finds out, the next autopsy report will be mine. So, if you'd just tell me where he is…?"

"Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo are currently on leave. Won't be back until next week," McGee said. "I'll make sure our ME gets the report."

"I better deliver it myself," Jeffries replied. "You have no idea what Fornell is like."

McGee's eyes glanced at Gibbs' empty desk.

"I wouldn't be so sure," He mumbled then pointed to the elevator. "Autopsy's two floors down. ME's name is Dr Mallard."

Jeffries nodded his head in thanks and headed for the elevator and McGee returned his attention to his computer.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The elevator doors opened and Jeffries stepped into the cooler temperature of the Autopsy room - there was no one in sight. He was just about to turn and leave when a young, man with wavy brown hair and glasses, stepped from an adjoining room.

"May I help you?" Palmer asked.

Showing his ID, Jeffries answered. "Agent Robert Jeffries, FBI. I believe Dr Mallard is expecting this report."

"Right. That would be the Monroe autopsy report?" Palmer asked.

"Yes. Is the doctor here?"

"No, I'm sorry, Dr Mallard had an emergency at home. His mother is holding the gardener prisoner in the conservatory. She thought he was a rapist and she's threatening to disembowel him."

Seeing the FBI Agent's shocked expression, Jimmy continued.

"Oh it's quite alright…it's a regular occurrence," he explained. "Mrs Mallard is in her nineties and a little…well…eccentric. I'm Dr Mallard's assistant. He told me you might come by to drop this off. I'll see that he gets it."

Jeffries looked thoughtful for a moment before commenting, "Wow! Looks like I chose the wrong time to come. The people I need to see are either home with their mother or on a weeks leave."

"A weeks leave?" Jimmy said, puzzled. "Oh, you mean Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo! Well, I can assure you that they rarely ever have any time off – especially together – and well, Tony has been through a lot lately."

"I heard that he was badly injured while undercover with Agent Monroe," Jeffries ventured. "How's he doing?"

"Not so well. Dr Mallard says that Agent Gibbs is very worried about him. In fact, that's why he's taken leave too. He's gonna take Tony and sail his boat up north – give him some time to clear his head."

"Sailing, you say? Sounds great! They've already left?" Jeffries asked.

"No, I think Dr Mallard said that they're heading out early tomorrow," Palmer replied. "I'll be sure to pass this file on to Dr Mallard when he returns."

"Thanks, kid," Jeffries said. "Thanks a lot."

After exiting the building, Jeffries reached for his cell phone and dialled a number.

"Sir," he said. "There's been a development. Looks like we will be able to tie up the loose ends sooner than expected."

**--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Three**

Gibbs arrived at Tony's apartment at 0600 sharp looking very casual and relaxed in a pair of faded, cut-off jeans, a t-shirt, a thin wind-breaker and a pair of deck shoes. Grabbing Tony's duffle bag, he slung it over his shoulder and headed for the door.

"If we're gonna make the tide, we have to get going," Gibbs told him.

The trip to the marina was made in relative silence - a quiet DiNozzo was not a good sign. Generally, when they travelled together, Gibbs would find himself praying for quiet as Tony regaled him with details of the latest box-office releases, or the specifications of the new model sports car they just passed. Then, while attempting to persuade Gibbs of the advantages of FM band over AM, he would change the stations rapidly until he found a song he knew and he'd sing along loudly.

During the past few weeks, engaging Tony in conversation was like extracting teeth. Gibbs didn't like it. A quiet DiNozzo was _definitely_ not a good sign. Perhaps a day on the ocean would relax the younger man enough to get him to talk.

Arriving at the marina, Gibbs parked in the long term parking lot and grabbed his gear from the back of his truck.

"It's mooring B15," He told Tony. "I need to log our course with the Harbour Master. I'll meet you down there."

Tony nodded and headed in the direction of the boat. He noticed it immediately among the multitude of others moored all around it. He stopped in his tracks admiring the traditional design. He marvelled at the sleek line and beauty of this small, hand crafted wooden yacht, dwarfed by larger, more modern fibreglass watercraft.

He dropped his bag and ran his hand over the highly polished finish, realizing the hundreds of hours and sleepless nights that had gone into its creation. He walked to the stern and smiled sadly as he read the name of the boat, painted in a beautiful script. _"Kelly." _He startled as Gibbs appeared behind him.

"Untie the stern line and climb aboard."

As Tony untied the line, he continued to admire the impressive craft.

"She looks great, Boss, how does she sail?"

"Get your butt on board and we'll find out," Gibbs said making the necessary preparations and then starting the small but powerful outboard engine to motor out of the marina.

"Make yourself comfortable, DiNozzo, you can stow your gear below," Gibbs instructed.

Tony opened the hatch and stepped into the cabin below. The quality of the finish of the exterior of the boat was matched by the interior. The boat had a small galley, two small berths and a head. There was also a small area complete with navigational equipment and charts, GPS and a two-way radio.

Climbing back on deck, Tony sat with Gibbs at the stern. Gibbs guided the tiller as the small yacht negotiated the busy marina and headed for open waters. Tony noticed the brass nautical compass and matching weather station that had been built into the console near the tiller. He wasn't surprised to see them. When it came to his boat, Gibbs was a traditionalist in every sense of the word. The GPS and navigational equipment below deck were standard safety items on all boats, but the old compass and weather station added to the classic feel of the little craft.

"You sailed before, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked him.

"Not really, my father had a luxury yacht when I was a kid. He used to entertain business associates on it. I really loved being out on the water," he shrugged before continuing, "but his idea of sailing was to sit on the observation deck with a cigar in one hand and a scotch on the rocks in the other and bark orders at the crew."

"What about you? What was your idea of sailing?" Gibbs asked.

"I would sneak down to the crew and they would let me help hoist the sails or steer but my father caught me a few times and went postal. Said it didn't look good for the heir to DiNozzo Enterprises to be acting like the hired help. He refused to take me again after that."

Gibbs eyes hardened at the thought of DiNozzo Snr placing "appearances" over his son's enjoyment.

"Well, it's never too late to learn, we've got a full days sailing ahead and don't think I won't keel haul you if you don't pull your weight." Gibbs said, not unkindly.

"Gotcha, Boss," Tony replied with a quick grin.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Using his access to the FBI database, Jeffries access maritime records and learned that a yacht registered to Leroy Jethro Gibbs was moored at the Gateway Harbour marina.

An hour later a non-descript vehicle slowly entered and parked in the lot of the marina its two occupants sat waiting impatiently. Ten minutes later a dark blue sedan parked beside them and a man wearing a suit exited from the car.

"Where is it?" he asked abruptly.

One of the men handed him a small black case. Opening it, he saw the syringe and an ampule of clear fluid.

"Stay here," he said and walked towards the main building.

"Morning," came the cheerful voice of the Harbour Master, Henry Oldfield. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine," the man said. "Jethro Gibbs? He mentioned he was taking his boat out today."

"Yep," Henry answered, "but you've missed him. He took her out for her maiden voyage 'bout an hour ago."

The man looked troubled, prompting Henry to ask. "Anything wrong?"

"Maybe. Did he have anyone with him? A younger man, tall, brown hair?" the man asked.

"Yeah, he did," Henry eyed the man suspiciously. "You wanna tell me what this is all about?"

"Of course," the man replied, reaching for his ID and flashing it quickly. "I work with Jethro and Tony. Tony stayed at my place last night and he must have dropped this." He held up the black case and flipped it open revealing the syringe and ampule.

"Tony's a diabetic and this is his insulin," he explained. "He's gonna need a shot in a few hours or he could die. Did Jethro log a course and destination before he left?"

"Yep, he sure did," Henry said, rifling through the papers on his desk. "They're headed for Wineglass Bay. It's at least a day's sail in that small vessel of his. I can make you a copy of his chartered course if you like."

"Thanks," the man said. "That would be great."

The man waited until Henry returned with the copy of the map. "He has a radio on board, you know. Have you tried calling him?"

"Yeah, he didn't answer," the man replied. "We've got a couple of Navy Seal's standing by in a rigid inflatable boat - what's the point of working for the Navy if you can't call in a favour now and then," he laughed. "Don't worry, they'll find 'em. Thanks for your help."

"Not a problem, Special Agent…?"

"McGee," the man said. "Special Agent Timothy McGee."

After making his way back to the car park, the man handed the map and the black case to the waiting men.

"Wineglass Bay," he said. "It will take them the best part of the day to get there. Drive to Hudson Beach, there'll be a boat waiting for you there. You'll have plenty of time to intercept them."

"Remember," he continued. "You're being well paid. Mr Burgess will not accept any mistakes. This needs to look like an accident."

Nodding their heads in understanding, the vehicle was started and the two men left for Hudson Beach.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Once the yacht had reached open waters, Tony helped Gibbs hoist the sails and Gibbs cut the engine. Tony had seated himself at the bow with his long legs hanging over the side and feet dangling in the bow wave. Gibbs knew from experience that the openness of the ocean could bring peace and comfort like nothing else. He left Tony to his thoughts with only sounds of the waves and the wind filling the sails.

The heat in the morning sun had prompted Tony to whip off his t-shirt to improve his tan. Dressed only in his board shorts and Ray-Bans, Gibbs winced as he saw the fading yellow bruises on Tony's torso, a vivid reminder of the violent encounter that had brought them to this point.

About an hour passed without a word being spoken until Gibbs disturbed the reverie with a brusque, "DiNozzo, get your butt back here and earn your passage!"

"Boss?" Tony replied.

"If I don't get a coffee soon, I'm gonna make you walk the plank," Gibbs replied watching Tony walk towards him among the sails, lines and halyards. "And watch your step, if you injure that collarbone again before it's properly healed Ducky will be unbearable."

"You want me to make your coffee, Boss?" Tony offered obligingly.

"Not likely, DiNozzo! I'd trust you with my boat before I'd trust you with my coffee," Gibbs said dryly. "Get back here and take the helm."

Taking his seat at the helm and grasping the tiller, Gibbs gave Tony a course heading and he went below. Moments later, Gibbs came back on deck with his coffee and a cold drink for Tony.

"You want me to take over?" he asked.

"I'm good, Boss," Tony said. "It's kinda fun."

In the next few hours, Gibbs instructed Tony in the finer points of sailing. Trimming the sails, setting the jib and the mainsail, furling the jib and the mainsail. He showed him how to sail into the wind, when to set your sails and when to strike them. Gibbs explained the various ropes, cables and halyards in the rigging and the best knots to use when mooring, rolling a rope or securing a sail. Most importantly, he stressed the absolute need to duck when the boom swung dangerously in your direction – a lesson Tony forgot once but, judging from the size of the lump on the back of his head, was not likely to again.

"They call it a boom for a reason, DiNozzo!" Gibbs had commented dryly.

As with most things, Tony was a quick study and before long, the younger man looked as if he'd been sailing all his life.

They were well and truly out to sea now, land was nowhere to be seen. As it was nearing lunchtime, Gibbs and Tony dropped the sails and allowed the boat to gently drift with the tide while they ate the chicken and sandwiches Gibbs had brought from home. Reaching into one of the console compartments, Gibbs threw a tube of sunscreen at Tony.

"You might want to use some of that," Gibbs advised. "The midday sun will burn the hide right off you."

"Thanks, Mom," Tony said, earning a clip across the back of the head.

Having eaten their fill, they packed up the leftovers and hoisted the sails again. Tony remained at the helm, enjoying his newly gained skills immensely. Gibbs came back on deck with a fishing basket and tackle box.

"What are you doing, Boss?"

"What does is look like, DiNozzo?" Gibbs replied. "I'm gonna catch our dinner. You like fresh fish?"

"Depends," Tony said looking wary. "Do I have to clean them?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "I'll catch them, I'll clean them _and_ I'll cook them."

"In that case," Tony said cheerfully. "I _love_ fresh fish!" Tony sat thoughtfully for a moment. "You'd really clean a fish for me, Boss?" he asked.

"Just sail the boat, DiNozzo!" Gibbs said with mock exasperation.

"Honestly, Boss," Tony continued. "I'm really touched. I mean…no one's ever cleaned a fish for me before. Removing the gills, then pulling the guts out…ew!" His ramblings came to an abrupt halt when he noticed Gibbs intense glare. "Clam up and sail the boat. Got it, Boss."

As Gibbs set up his fishing equipment, Tony noticed a gun in his tackle box.

"Planning on shooting our dinner, Boss? Cause I don't think that's how it's done."

Gibbs gave him a look of warning and Tony continued.

"Not that I think you couldn't shoot the eye out of a fast moving fish, Boss, cause I think you could."

"If you don't put a sock in it, DiNozzo, it won't be the fish that get shot!" Gibbs replied.

"Putting a sock in it, Boss," Tony said with a grimace.

As Gibbs cast his hand line over the back of the boat, he noted that Tony's posture had become more relaxed than he'd seen it in weeks. He was certainly starting to talk more although, at the moment, Gibbs was still deciding whether that was a good thing.

"Ever do any fishing, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head. "Nah, as a kid I was too hyper. Never sat still long enough to fish."

'_Some things never change_,' Gibbs thought.

Even though Tony was communicating a little more openly now, Gibbs resisted the temptation to broach the subject of the disastrous undercover operation or Tony's pending resignation. For all of his outward charm and his easy-going nature, Gibbs knew that DiNozzo was one of the most stubborn men he'd ever met. He would not be pushed and any attempt by Gibbs to get him to open up before he was ready would not end well.

The afternoon wind picked up and the little boat "flew" over the waves with an impressive speed and smoothness. Gibbs caught and cleaned four fish and placed them in the icebox. He practically had to wrestle the tiller from Tony before the younger man relented. Tony threw on a thin sweater and resumed his earlier position at the bow, legs once again dangling over the sides.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs called. "We've got company!"

Tony looked around expecting to see another boat but was pleasantly surprised to see a pod of inquisitive dolphins had surrounded the yacht and were playfully catching a ride in the bow wave. Tony watched with amazement as the dolphins kept pace effortlessly, some surfacing inches from his dangling feet. The high wattage smile that beamed back at him, assured Gibbs that he had made the right choice. A day on the ocean had done more to put Tony at ease than any department psychologist ever could.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—

"Abigail, Mr Palmer said you wanted to see me!" Ducky said as he walked into the Forensics Lab.

"Hi Duckman!" Abby replied. "I'd like your opinion on a blood test the FBI ran on Agent Monroe."

"Of course, my dear," Ducky said. "What seems to be the problem?"

Abby's brow creased in a frown as she replied. "Well, the FBI's ME claimed that Agent Monroe's blood alcohol level was 0.18, that's well and truly blotto in all 50 states."

"Yes," Ducky agreed. "According to the report, in his alcohol induced haze, Agent Monroe reached for his service revolver, placed it under his chin and pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated the temporal and occipital lobes before shattering the parietal bone at the back of his skull. Death was almost certainly instantaneous."

"It's not the impact of the bullet I have a problem with, it's the alcohol. Something's hinky," Abby explained.

"A 0.18 blood alcohol reading could certainly lead to emotional swings and depression," Ducky replied. "I never met Agent Monroe but the combination of alcohol and the guilt he was apparently feeling over the blown undercover operation and the injuries suffered by our Anthony, could have led him to take his own life."

"But Ducky!" Abby said becoming more insistent. "The report said that an empty bottle of bourbon was found next to the body. I ran a check on the composition of the chemical elements of the alcohol in Agent Monroe's blood and compared them to the composition of elements found in that particular brand of bourbon." Abby said pointing to her computer screen to allow Ducky to see the results.

"They don't match!" Ducky announced.

"No they don't," Abby concurred. "In fact, there is no known alcohol beverage on the market that contains that composition. Which means…."

"That the substance may have been injected!" Ducky said. "If that was the case, an alcoholic substance of that potency, injected directly into the blood stream would have rendered Agent Monroe into a catatonic state and certainly unable to take his own life." They looked at each other as the realisation struck.

"Unless he had help," Abby said "and that would make it murder. What do we do, Ducky?"

"Firstly, we need to be absolutely sure before we make any accusations. We should call Timothy and Ziva down here and tell them what we've found. They will need to investigate this more fully."

Ducky placed a reassuring Gibbs-like kiss on her cheek.

"Good work, Abs," he said with a cheeky wink before reaching for the phone to call McGee.

"If this is murder and it has anything to do with the Burgess case, then Anthony may be the next intended victim," Ducky said grimly.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Four**

Tony made his way aft and sat next to Gibbs at the helm.

"We'll start to lose the light soon, Boss," he said. "We got much further to go?"

"We're about 90 minutes out," Gibbs replied. "We've got running lights and the navigational equipment – we'll be there by dinnertime."

They sat in companionable silence for the next 15 minutes until Tony noticed another boat in the distance.

"Boss?" he said squinting. "You got some binoculars?"

Gibbs pointed to a compartment. "Something wrong?" he asked watching as Tony's expression tensed in anticipation of trouble.

"Not sure," Tony said opening the compartment. "Might be nothing but I think someone is signalling for help."

Tony lifted the binoculars to his eyes and tweaked the dials until they focused correctly.

"Ah…Boss…we've got trouble," he said passing the binoculars to Gibbs. "Our ten o'clock - boat looks like it's sinking and there's definitely someone waving for help."

"Mind your head, DiNozzo," Gibbs warned as he turned the yacht quickly into the wind and watched as the boom swung dangerously just above their heads. He guided them in the direction of the stricken craft.

As they approached they saw two men, bailing water from their ominously listing boat. One man had removed his shirt and was frantically waving it in an attempt to attract attention.

"Looks like you guys could use some help," Tony called. "Everyone okay?"

"Are we glad to see you!" a large bald man replied. "Don't think this boat's gonna last much longer. Thought we were going to have to swim for the shore and Bill here, doesn't do so well in the water."

"I'm going to throw you a line so we can come alongside," Tony told him as Gibbs manoeuvred the yacht alongside the stricken boat.

"You men better climb aboard," Gibbs instructed. "You can radio the Coast Guard to arrange a salvage and we'll take you in to Wineglass Bay."

The men grabbed what they could of their personal belongings, including a backpack, and their jackets. Tony helped the cold and wet men onboard and pushed off the hapless boat as Gibbs resumed their previous course.

"I'm Tony, that's Gibbs," he said nodding in the direction of his Boss. "What happened?"

"I'm Ed," the bald man replied. "We've been planning this fishing trip for months. We borrowed the boat from Bill's brother-in-law and hit a rock or a reef or something. Put a six-inch gash in the hull. We looked around but there were no safety vests, no flares, and no radio. If you guys hadn't happened by, we'd be swimming home for sure."

Gibbs' gut was telling him that something wasn't right. He had seen no fishing equipment in the sinking vessel and these men certainly didn't dress like fishermen. He chanced a quick look at Tony, who silently communicated his own suspicions. No fisherman would set out in a 400 dollar pair of handmade Forzieri Italian shoes.

Realising his weapon was in his bag below deck Tony made an excuse to go below.

"I'll get you some towels," he said. "Be right back."

Before he could get to the hatch, Ed grabbed Tony from behind, twisting his arm behind his back and placing the barrel of his revolver to his head. Gibbs started forward.

"Don't move or I'll blow his brains out!" Ed yelled.

Gibbs froze on the spot, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture.

"Take it easy," he said. "Who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter who we are. But we're here to arrange a tragic boating accident where, sadly, there will be no survivors," Ed hissed menacingly into Tony's ear.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Abby and Ducky had briefed Ziva and McGee on their suspicions that FBI Agent Monroe may not have committed suicide but may have been murdered.

"Should we contact the Boss and Tony?" McGee said.

"We are not certain of anything yet, Timothy," Ducky said. "We may be alarming them unnecessarily."

"McGee is right," Ziva added. "We should tell them of our suspicions so that they can be ready for any trouble. We can contact them again once we know for sure."

"Yes, yes, I see your point, my dear," Ducky conceded. "What about the Director? Perhaps she can assist."

"The Director has been called to the Pentagon for a top secret arms meeting," Ziva said. "She will not be available until tomorrow."

"How do you always know that stuff?" McGee said incredulously.

Ziva rolled her eyes in exasperation. She offered him her outstretched hand.

"Ziva David. Spy. Have we met??" she asked sarcastically.

"You've been hanging around Tony too much." McGee muttered.

The loud clomping of Abby's platform boots preluded her worried exclaim as she hurried back to the small huddle.

"Oh my God, oh my God! I can't reach Tony or Gibbs on their cell phones," she said, trying to control the panic rising in her. "Maybe something's already happened to them. We could be too late. They could already be hurt or…worse."

"Abby, you must calm down," Ziva said, barely concealing her own concern. "Perhaps they are out of range. They were sailing out to sea, yes?"

"And remember, Abs, we don't have positive proof that Agent Monroe _was _murdered," McGee said placing a comforting arm around her shoulders and looking thoughtful. "We know that Tony and Gibbs were headed to Wineglass Bay, but we don't know what course they took."

"Ducky?" Ziva asked. "They would have had to log a course with the Harbour Master in case of emergency, yes?"

"Yes, that's quite right, my dear. Jethro is always very meticulous with such details. I believe his yacht was moored at Gateway Harbour Marina. Perhaps you should contact the Harbour Master there!" Ducky advised. "In fact, this rather reminds me of a time when I was in Papua New Guinea. I was travelling down the Becking River in a log canoe when a group of head hunters from the Korowai tribe took quite a fancy to the look of my cranium…"

"Ducky!" McGee interrupted.

"Of course, my boy," Ducky said. "Perhaps another time."

"Ducky, what do you need to prove whether this was murder or suicide?" McGee asked.

"Well, Timothy, I will need to do my own autopsy to determine whether the alcohol substance was injected," Ducky replied thoughtfully. "Then, of course, Abigail will require a sample of the blood."

"Ziva. Go to Gateway Harbour Marina and speak to the Harbour Master, personally. If we're right and someone is after Tony, then they may have already been there asking questions about their heading. He should also have a listing of Gibbs' radio call sign. Make sure the Harbour Master speaks only to us," McGee said.

Nodding her head in understanding, Ziva replied. "What about you? What will you be doing?"

"I have the fun part," McGee said laconically. "I have to convince Agent Fornell to give us the body and blood sample of his dead agent."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

While keeping the gun firmly pressed against Tony's temple, the bald man spoke to his associate.

"Bill, check them for weapons."

Bill walked to where Gibbs was still standing at the helm. He patted him down and indicated with a quick shake of his head, that Gibbs was unarmed. He then walked to where Tony was standing, and repeated the gesture confirming that Tony was also unarmed.

"Since you plan on killing us anyway, you mind telling us why?" Tony asked calmly.

"Let's just say, that with the last of the troublemakers out of the way permanently, Mr Burgess will be a happy man," Bill replied.

Tony's eyes narrowed as he said. "Last of the troublemakers?"

"Yes," Ed answered. "You already know that FBI Agent Paul Monroe committed suicide 2 nights ago."

"Let me guess," Tony's eyes hardened with fury. "You gave him a hand with that."

"All part of the service," Ed replied, his rancid breath turning Tony's stomach.

"The FBI would have autopsied the body by now," Gibbs said. "They'll know if their agent was murdered and they'll be looking for whoever did it."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you," Bill responded. "The FBI Medical Examiner ruled the death a suicide. So, you see, no one suspects a thing and nobody is looking for us."

"If nobody suspects Agent Monroe was murdered," Gibbs said. "Burgess is already home free. The FBI can't touch him. So, why kill us?"

Bill nodded towards Tony. "Mr Burgess wants him dead for his part in the undercover operation. He doesn't take kindly to being made to look like a fool. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said to Gibbs. He reached into his backpack and withdrew two bottles of Jack Daniels.

"I believe this is your drink of choice," he said to Gibbs.

"We having a party, Boss?" Tony asked. "Cause I didn't pack my dancing shoes."

He grunted as his arm was twisted further up his back, placing painful pressure on his healing collarbone.

"Not we – you," Ed answered. "We're gonna make it look like you and your Boss there, had way too much to drink and didn't notice the gas leak from the galley that resulted in your unfortunate, _accidental_ deaths."

"Thanks just the same, but I'm really more of a beer man and pretzels man," Tony replied sarcastically. "Bourbon tends to make me want to tango on table tops and gives me those dreadful blinding hangovers."

"Don't worry, you won't have to drink it," Bill said reaching back into the backpack and removing the black case with the syringe and ampule. "One shot of this will render you both catatonic and will leave enough alcohol in your system to make it look like you drank yourselves into a drunken stupor and passed out."

Tony shook his head and laughed. "It will never work," he said.

"Oh yeah?" Bill challenged. "Why not?"

"Because anyone who knows me, knows that DiNozzo's do _not_ pass out!" Tony replied and grunted as his arm was cruelly twisted again.

He glanced at Gibbs and watched as his Boss flicked his blues eyes towards the boom. Returning a glance that communicated his understanding, Tony spread his weight evenly in his stance and took a firm grip of the hatch with his left hand.

Suddenly, Gibbs jerked the tiller to the starboard side, causing the small yacht to lurch into a sharp turn to port. The boom careened across the deck, crashing forcefully into the unsuspecting and off-balance Bill and sending the case with the syringe and ampule into the ocean.

The sudden movement of the boat also caught the other intruder off guard. The gun shifted from Tony's temple as the bald man attempted to regain his balance. Tony took the opportunity to go for the gun in the man's hand. In his peripheral vision he saw Gibbs launch himself from his position at the helm and grab Bill around the neck in a vice-like grip.

Both pairs struggled desperately for several minutes. Tony had just got his hands to the weapon when the bald man swept his feet out from under him. Both men were sent sprawling to the deck. Unable to brace his fall with his hands, Tony hit the deck hard, only to have Ed's 240-pound frame pummel into him. He yelled in agony as he heard his injured collarbone snap like a twig and felt the searing pain in his shoulder. The bald man extracted himself from Tony's lax grip and stood menacingly above him.

Gibbs and Bill were engaged in a battle of their own. Bill's icy fingers tried desperately to loosen the grip Gibbs' had on his neck. The sound of Tony's yell almost made Gibbs lose his resolve and he watched with impatience as Bill's eyes began to flutter closed from lack of oxygen.

'_Hold on Tony,_' Gibbs thought. '_Five seconds more and I'll be there to help you.' _

Then Gibbs' world went black as the butt of a handgun slammed into the back of his head and sent him crashing to the deck in an unconscious heap.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Five**

McGee nervously paced the empty bullpen. It was hard to believe that someone could intimidate him almost as much as Gibbs, but it was true. That someone was FBI Agent Tobias Fornell. He mused that both Gibbs and Fornell must have graduated summa cum laude from the University of Hard Asses.

McGee had left four urgent phone messages for Fornell in the last two hours and had not received a reply. He couldn't wait any longer. He needed to get to Fornell one way or the other and with the Director and Gibbs both out of the office he was left with little alternative. McGee took a deep breath, sat at his computer and began to type.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva had been halfway across the NCIS parking lot when she heard her name being called frantically. Turning in the direction of the voice, she saw Abby running towards her and, considering the three-inch platforms, she was moving at a very impressive clip.

Ziva smiled and gently shook her head as Abby reached her, complete with elbow length gloves, large skull and crossbones handbag and a parasol to ward off the direct sunlight.

"Abby, what is wrong?" Ziva asked with concern.

"Ziva, please let me come with you," Abby pleaded. "I'm always left here alone which – normally – is fine because I have tests to run but I don't have any tests to run at the moment except the tests that I _am_ running and they are still - well - running."

"Oh, Abby, I do not think that is a good idea," Ziva cautioned. "You are not a Field Agent and Gibbs would head slap me back to Israel if he found out."

"But he won't find out, Ziva!" Abby pressed. "Gibbs isn't here. Only you and I are here. Which is part of the problem 'cause if Gibbs were here then we wouldn't have to go the marina to find out where Gibbs is 'cause he'd be here and we'd know where Gibbs was. Please, Ziva, _please_!!"

Ziva replayed that response in her mind at a much slower speed. She looked at the desperate expression on her friends face.

"I need to be doing something to find them, Ziva," Abby said softly. "At least until McGee gets Fornell to release Agent Monroe's body. Then I'll go back to my lab, I promise!"

After considering Abby's plea, Ziva agreed. After all, she wasn't going to interview a suspect or to make an arrest or any other potentially dangerous situation. She was simply driving to the marina to obtain some information and, hopefully, the course that Gibbs had logged with the Harbour Master for his trip to Wineglass Bay.

Somehow, Ziva managed to reduce the 70-minute trip to the marina to 45-minutes. Abby's pale Gothic complexion was considerably paler when they parked the car and walked quickly into the ship chandlers' store. Ziva showed her identification to Harbour Master, Henry Oldfield.

"Did you find them?" Oldfield immediately inquired.

"Excuse me?" Ziva asked.

"Jethro Gibbs. I thought you people were looking for him."

Abby and Ziva exchanged a confused look. "We are," Ziva said. "How do you know that?"

"You know, you Feds really need to learn to communicate with each other," Henry scolded. "Looks like another case of the right hand not knowing what the left is doing."

Frowning at the idiom, Ziva said tersely. "Mr Oldfield. I do not know what you are talking about. Ms Scuito and I work with Special Agent Gibbs at NCIS. We need to know whether Agent Gibbs logged a course this morning and, if so, we will need a copy."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Oldfield answered. "I gave a copy of Jethro's course to the guy who was here this morning."

Ziva felt her stomach muscles tighten. "Are you in the habit of providing this sort of information to anyone who asks for it?"

"No, I am not!" Oldfield responded irately. "But seeing as though this was a medical emergency and a man's life was at stake, I made an exception!"

Abby could remain quiet no longer. "Medical emergency!! Oh my God, I knew it!" she fretted. "I just knew that something bad was going to happen. Who got hurt? Is it Gibbs? It's Tony isn't it? It's _always_ Tony. I always tell him to be careful and he always promises me that he will be and then something bad always happens to him….. What is it? What happened?"

Oldfield stood open mouthed, not sure which question to answer first.

Ziva grasped Abby's wrist in an effort to both quiet and reassure her.

"What medical emergency?" she asked Oldfield.

Oldfield sighed loudly. "Well, it seems that young fella, Tony is it? He left his insulin at his friends house and being a diabetic…"

"Tony??" Abby said. "Tony's not a diabetic!!"

"Perhaps you are thinking of someone else," Ziva suggested.

"Look, all I know is, this morning one of your colleagues came in, flashed his badge and told me this, Tony, had forgotten his insulin," Oldfield explained. "He asked for a copy of Jethro's chartered course and told me that the Navy Seals were standing by to go fetch him. Hell, he even showed me the syringe and insulin! "

"And you are sure it was an NCIS badge like mine?" Ziva asked showing him her badge again.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure, I only saw it for a second but it was definitely a Federal Agency badge and it looked about as authentic as you can get," Oldfield answered.

"You gave him a print out of the course Gibbs was taking?" Ziva asked again.

"Well of course I did! I thought he was genuine and I thought there was a medical emergency," Oldfield defended.

"Do you remember what the man looked like? His name or anything else about him?" Ziva asked.

"Hmmm…well, he was tall, about 6 feet. Brown hair, blue eyes – real clean cut type," Oldfield recollected. "Think he said his name was….McGee! Timothy McGee, that's his name!!"

Ziva and Abby exchanged surprised looks. "It could not have been Special Agent McGee. He is my partner. I have been with him since 7am this morning," Ziva told him.

"Wait!!" Abby explained lifting her large handbag onto the counter. "I have a photo of McGee in my bag!!"

She started rifling through the contents of her handbag in search of the photo. Unable to locate it, she sighed in frustration and began to place the contents of her bag in a pile on the counter.

She was pleasantly unaware of the wide-eyed stares from Ziva and Oldfield as they watched her produce a can of mace, a large rubber vampire bat, and a set of knuckle-dusters.

The arrival of a set of rosary beads prompted Ziva to ask, "Abby, I did not know that you were Catholic?"

"Oh, I'm not!" Abby explained. "They belong to Sister Rosita. She left them at my apartment last week."

The pile grew larger with the arrival of a second set of knuckle-dusters.

"Two sets of brass knuckles, Abby?" Ziva asked again.

"Oh no, silly. These are Sister Rosita's too!"

"My mistake," Ziva said dryly.

The production of an evidence jar filled with alcohol and a human appendix rendered Ziva almost speechless.

"Eww!!...Abby...that is disgusting!! Why do you have that in your handbag?" she asked with trepidation.

"They're Tony's!!" Abby said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.

"But why…you know what…I do not want to know!" Ziva replied wrinkling her nose.

"I found it!!" Abby exclaimed producing a photo of McGee and handing it to Ziva.

Ziva looked aghast. "Abby, haven't you got another photo of McGee that we can use?'

"What's wrong with that one? I love that photo!!" Abby exclaimed. "He's so cute!!"

Ziva took a deep breath and turned to Oldfield. "This is Special Agent McGee," Ziva said. "Is this the man who you spoke to this morning?"

Oldfield's eyes widened as he looked at the photo. "That's not him," he said shaking his head.

"Maybe it would help if you closed your eyes and tried to imagine him wearing a suit instead of a Snow Elf costume," Abby suggested.

"Snow Elf?" Oldfield asked.

"It is a long story," Ziva said. "But you are sure this is not the man you spoke to this morning?"

"I'm positive. The guy this morning was much older," Oldfield said.

"Do you have CCTV in here?" Ziva asked looking around for a camera while Abby placed the items back into her handbag.

"No, I don't," Oldfield answered, giving Ziva a copy of the course Gibbs logged. "Usually don't have the need."

"Thank you for your time," she said handing Oldfield her card. "Should you think of anything else that could be of assistance, please do not hesitate to call me."

Ziva and Abby had reached the door when they heard Oldfield call after them. "I do have CCTV in the car park."

Ziva and Abby exchanged a satisfied grin and headed back into the store.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Security guard, John Wells, rang McGee's extension from his station in the lobby of the NCIS building, the instant he saw FBI Agent Tobias Fornell stride purposely to the building's security checkpoint.

"Thanks, John, I owe you one," McGee said before disconnecting the call. He opened the door to the stairwell and descended to the ground floor as quickly as possible. He was leaning against the wall near the elevators as Fornell approached.

Fornell nodded his head. "McGee isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir," McGee replied.

"I'm here to see Gibbs," he explained. "He better have a damn good reason for _demanding_ my presence. Who the hell does he think he is, anyway?"

"Yes, Sir," McGee repeated.

The elevator car arrived and Fornell and McGee both entered. As the car started to ascend, McGee visibly gulped, flicked the emergency stop button and brought the car to a sudden halt.

"What the?? McGee! What the hell are you playing at?" Fornell hissed.

"Well, Sir," McGee began. "I need to speak with you privately."

"I guessed that much," Fornell said, "ever heard of the telephone?"

"Yes, Sir, I have and I left four urgent messages for you this afternoon but you didn't respond," he explained.

Fornell looked at his cell phone. "Damn ringer thing stopped working," he said, sounding an awfully like Gibbs. "This will have to wait McGee, I have urgent business with your Boss."

"Um, that's what I need to speak with you about, Sir. Agent Gibbs isn't here?"

"What do you mean he's not here?" Fornell yelled. "Where the hell is he?"

"Well, um, Agent Fornell, Gibbs is currently on annual leave."

"What do you mean, annual leave? He just sent me an email asking me to meet him here urgently."

"Yes, I know," McGee took a deep breath and said. "I sent you that email."

Fornell stepped menacingly close to McGee backing the younger man against the elevator doors. Keeping his voice low and dangerous, he whispered.

"Let me get this straight. You hacked into the confidential government email account of your team leader to send me an email stating, and I quote, "Tobias, you better haul your sorry ass over here now or there'll be hell to pay." Did I understand that correctly, Agent McGee?"

A fine sheen of sweat started to appear across McGee's brow as Fornell continued to eye him like a hawk would a field mouse.

"Yes, Sir, that's correct, Sir," McGee said. "But you see, we may have an emergency and I really needed to contact you," Intrigued, Fornell stepped back a little.

"Whilst I don't condone your methods, McGee, you do seem to have mastered Jethro's flowery way with words," Fornell said dryly. "So, what's so important that you're willing to risk your job?"

McGee straightened to his full height and looked Fornell directly in the eyes.

"Well, Sir, we believe that there may have been discrepancies in your agency's autopsy of Agent Paul Monroe," McGee replied, readying himself for Fornell's explosive response.

"Well that's just great!" Fornell spat angrily. "It's bad enough that, yesterday, your Boss stops just short of comparing the FBI with the Keystone Cops but now I have to listen to his junior field agent do the same. Stand aside Agent McGee, this meeting is over and when I'm through with you, you'll be lucky to get a job as a crosswalk attendant!!"

McGee held his ground and his gaze. He explained to Fornell about the discrepancies in the chemical compounds of the blood alcohol and the empty bottles found beside Agent Monroe's body.

Fornell was furious at what he perceived to be an attempt by NCIS to besmirch the reputation of the FBI. However, he had known Paul Monroe for 15 years and would never have believed that the Agent was capable of taking his own life. As much as it sickened him to believe it, if there was any corruption within his agency, he was duty bound to investigate. He agreed to have Monroe's body, blood samples and all physical evidence transferred clandestinely to NCIS within two hours on the condition that he was kept in the loop on any and all findings.

McGee agreed and flicked the button for the elevator to start. Fornell exited the lift with a look that would freeze hell and the elevator doors closed again. Expelling a long breath, McGee slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him. He didn't even feel the car descending to Autopsy level. As the doors opened Ducky appeared before him.

"Ah, Timothy!" he said. "I see your meeting with Agent Fornell went well!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Six**

Gibbs could feel the pounding in his head even before he was fully conscious. Lying midship, his body stiffened as he remembered how he came to be bound with his hands behind his back and feet tied together.

The incessant noise was like a jackhammer in his head and it took him several moments to realise that the outboard motor was running. He could tell by the feel of the current and the large swell against the hull of the boat but their captors had changed course and were heading further out to sea.

He tried to sit up but felt the rush of bile in his throat and closed his eyes again until the nausea passed. It was night now. From the position of the moon he estimated it was at least 2200 hours. He caught a glimpse of the bald man at the helm of his boat. He turned his head as far as he could without alerting his captors that he was conscious but couldn't see Tony. Fear stabbed at his heart as he remembered Tony's agonised scream seconds before he had been struck from behind. He heard footsteps approaching from the cabin and he feigned unconsciousness as another set of legs stopped in front of him.

"Any trouble?" the bald man asked.

"Nah. He's still out," Bill said. He prodded Gibbs body with his foot. "So is this one by the look of it."

Gibbs felt a rush of relief as he realised that Tony was still alive.

'_They must have moved him below deck,_' he thought.

"What do you think we should do?" Bill asked.

"Use the satellite phone, report in and tell them we don't have the drug anymore," Ed instructed. "Tell them we've changed course completely and are heading out to sea. Ask them what they want us to do with the Feds and arrange a new rendezvous point."

Bill nodded and went back into the cabin. Gibbs could hear the muffled sound of speaking as he tried to work loose the ropes on his hands. The ropes were tight and the harder he struggled against them the more they ripped and tore at the skin on his wrists. He stilled again as, moments later, Bill returned from the cabin.

"Mr Burgess is not a happy man," he said. "He wanted this done cleanly with no slip ups and no way to trace it back to him."

"That can be arranged," Ed said. "We weight them down and drop them over the side. No one will find them and no one will tie it back to Mr B."

"He wants DiNozzo taught a lesson before he dies," Bill said. "Said to make him suffer and make sure he knows he's about to die."

"He _really_ pissed off the Boss. Better him than us!" Ed laughed. "What about the boat? What do they want us to do with it?"

"Rendezvous is in just over an hour, at 11-30. We wait until the launch arrives and we scuttle this boat with them onboard. I've disabled the GPS and radio. Must be hundreds of feet deep here. They won't find them for years," Bill said.

"If we only have an hour to rendezvous, we better wake up pretty boy." They cut the outboard motor, satisfied to let the boat drift, and then they went below to Tony.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

True to his word, Fornell had the body of his agent and all physical evidence transferred to NCIS for further investigation. While Ducky and Jimmy Palmer performed a limited autopsy, Fornell paced the bullpen like a caged lion. He detested the thought that an FBI agent, one of _his_ people may be involved in the murder of a fellow agent. He also hated having to rely on the assistance of another agency but at this point in time, he didn't know whom at the FBI he could trust.

McGee had managed to source the frequency and call sign of the radio on Gibbs' boat but there had been no answer. The cell phones were still out of range and they were not receiving a GPS signal from the boat or from their cell phones. Darkness had descended before Ziva and Abby returned from the marina and before they could arrange a search and rescue operation.

The elevator sounded and Ziva and Abby stepped out. They quickly walked to the bullpen and handed McGee a copy of the CCTV tape from the marina car park. The quality was poor but they managed to extract the licence plates from the dark blue sedan and a non-descript Ford parked nearby. Fornell's expression hardened and his fists clenched when the search revealed that the sedan was registered to the FBI and the other car was on the stolen vehicles list.

The grainy quality made it almost impossible to identify any of the men. Abby took the tape downstairs to her lab to try to improve the quality. Fornell used Gibbs' vacant desk and computer to log into the FBI database. According to the records that particular sedan had not left the FBI parking area for over a week. Fornell thumped his fist onto the desk in frustration.

Director Shepard's meeting at the Pentagon had finished and, after receiving McGee's urgent message, she immediately made her way back NCIS headquarters. She strode quickly into the bullpen.

"Ziva, McGee, sitrep," she said sharply.

"We have not been able to contact Tony or Gibbs on their cells or by radio. They were scheduled to arrive at Wineglass Bay marina at 1900. They haven't checked in yet and it's nearly 2230," McGee said checking his watch. "The Harbour Master will call the minute he hears from them."

"At the moment we do not know whether they are missing or just late," Ziva continued.

"They're missing," Jenny said with absolute certainty.

"How can you be so sure?" McGee asked.

"Because Leroy Jethro Gibbs is never late," Jenny answered.

Ziva continued with her report. "We do know that someone trying to pass themselves off as McGee, told the Harbour Master at the Gateway Marina that there was a medical emergency involving Tony and gained access to the chartered course and the heading Gibbs and Tony took today."

"I have two Navy Seals teams and a chopper team from the Coast Guard on stand-by for a search and rescue operation at first light. But they need your security clearance, Director, before they will deploy," McGee advised her. Jenny placed the call immediately from McGee's desk.

"Have we confirmed whether Agent Monroe was murdered?" Jenny asked.

"We are still waiting for Ducky to complete the autopsy," Ziva replied. "He should be finished soon."

"Agent Fornell?" Jenny said. "McGee informs me that you have been very co-operative. I appreciate your assistance."

Fornell nodded his head towards McGee.

"He was very persuasive, Director. Besides, if Doctor Mallard's autopsy reveals what we think it will, then one or more of my agents are involved up to their necks in this. If that's the case, I want them taken down."

Abby rejoined them in the bullpen. "I've re-tested the chemical compounds from the alcohol in Agent Monroe's blood. Definitely unlike any found in commercially sold alcohol beverages, including the bottle of bourbon found at his side," Abby said.

"I'm afraid you are correct, Abigail," Ducky agreed as he and Palmer exited the elevator and joined the others. "As you know, I was unable to complete a full autopsy as Agent Monroe's vital organs had previously been removed, weighed, tested and replaced when the FBI performed an autopsy of their own. I was, however, able to determine three very important facts."

Ducky raised one finger. "Firstly, as you all know, when a person dies their bodily functions shut down. For example, had they just eaten, their stomach would cease digesting and metabolising the food. The amount of bourbon Agent Monroe would need to consume to reach his blood alcohol level of 0.18 is not reflected by the small amount of alcohol found in his stomach."

Ducky raised another finger. "Secondly, his liver had even less alcohol content than his stomach, which is normally the case until the stomach has absorbed and digested it but lends credence to the first point."

Ducky raised a third finger. "Thirdly, I located what I believe to be a needle mark on Agent Monroe's inner elbow, indicating that a substance was injected directly into his bloodstream. Also bruising on his arms consistent with them being forcibly held while the substance was injected. This would have undoubtedly caused him to be in a catatonic state prior to the bullet wound to his brain."

"So he _was_ murdered," Fornell stated. "Dr Mallard, in your professional opinion, is there any reasonable explanation why an experienced ME would fail to notice or report these findings?"

Ducky shook his head slowly his mouth formed a tight thin line. "I'm afraid not. These results appear to have been withheld from the original autopsy report."

A tense silence fell over the bullpen until Abby spoke again.

"Oh, hey, I've cleaned up the tape," she said giving it to McGee to display on the plasma screen. "There are several shots of their faces. If we can't ID anyone now, I will run a facial recognition program against the criminal database. It's a long shot but we may get lucky."

They all turned to the plasma screen and watched as the blue sedan parked next to the Ford. The driver exited and walked to the Ford, speaking with the passenger. There was still no clear shot of his face, but Abby was able to zoom in and provide a clear shot of the small case containing the syringe and ampule.

As the driver turned to enter the Ship Chandler's store, he unknowingly turned to face a camera. McGee, Fornell, Jenny and Palmer spoke as one. "Agent Jeffries."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The pain emanating from Tony's collarbone clouded his thoughts. His arms had been pulled behind his back and tied to a chair at the wrists and his broken clavicle jutted out at a grotesque angle.

He remembered the fight on the deck of the boat and grappling with the large bald intruder for the gun. He remembered falling and then a blinding white pain as his collarbone snapped under the weight of the other man. Things got a little hazy after that.

His head hurt but his vision was sharp and was fairly sure he had escaped a concussion although he couldn't recall how he got below deck. His breath caught when he realised that he had no idea where Gibbs was or if he was still alive.

He heard the outboard motor cut out and heavy footsteps heading his way. He looked at the small stairway as the two captors descended into the cabin.

"Look who's awake?" Bill said as both men stood menacingly in front of him.

"You know, illegally taking possession of a boat at sea is an act of piracy," Tony said as casually as he could manage. "Don't suppose you'd consider a parlay?"

Tony's head snapped to the side as a ham-sized fist thumped into his jaw.

Grimacing, he flexed his jaw from side to side.

"I'll take that as a no," he replied, muttering. "Didn't work for Captain Jack Sparrow either."

Tony looked from Bill to Ed. His facial features hardened as his hissed. "Where's Gibbs?"

"He's a little tired up, but he's fine – for now," Bill answered.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Gibbs was alive. His voice was low and dangerous as he replied.

"He better stay that way or you and Jean-Luc Picard over there will have federal agents on your asses for the rest of your miserable lives."

"Listen up, funny man," Ed said. "We have a message to deliver."

"You couldn't just slip it under the door?" Tony asked just before a sharp blow to his stomach doubled him over as far as his restraints would allow. He inhaled deeply and straightened in his chair. "I hope you're not expecting a tip."

"You've caused Mr Burgess a great deal of trouble," Bill continued. "He's had to close down his entire east coast operation."

Tony smiled a little. "Re-ally, the operation wasn't a total loss after all," he said, expecting and receiving another rousing blow, this time to his cheekbone.

"He's very pissed about having to fly all the way to The Maldives to avoid prosecution," the bald guy continued.

"He should thank me," Tony replied defiantly. "Think of the frequent flyer points he's racked up!"

This time the blow split his eyebrow and caused blood to flow into his eye and down his face.

"Not to mention…. those little packets…. of roasted peanuts you get…. during the flight," Tony continued breathlessly.

He wasn't sure who was throwing the punches now but they came one after the other in a painful and frenetic blur. His head was wrenched back sharply. Blood flowed freely from his nose and split lip and his left eye was rapidly swelling shut.

Tony could smell the putrid breath as Ed leaned in threateningly.

"What you probably don't know is that the High Court dismissed the FBI's appeal. Mr Burgess is back. The FBI can't touch him and he wants you dead."

Tony winced. "You know," he whispered "it's never too late to care about dental hygiene."

The next punch connected with a sickening thud and Tony's head lolled forward as he lost consciousness.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs edged his way slowly and stealthily towards the rear of the boat where he had left his tackle box. Reaching it, and with his hands still bound behind him, he blindly felt around for the fishing knife he had used earlier to gut and clean the fish he'd caught. His adrenalin pumped as his fingers wrapped around the hilt.

He could hear the sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh and his jaw clenched as he desperately tried to cut himself free. He heard Tony's muffled groans and the guttural sounds from his throat as he refused to give his captors the satisfaction of hearing him yell. It took several painstaking moments but Gibbs finally cut through the restraints binding his hands and then his feet. He flexed his ankles and wrists to get the circulation flowing and then searched the tackle box again for the spare gun he kept there. Gun in hand, he crept to the cabin door in time to see Tony's head loll forward.

"Wake him up," Ed said. "I want him to see this coming."

Bill grabbed Tony by the hair and lifted his head. He slapped Tony's face until his eyes fluttered open and seemingly focused on the gun pointed at his head.

"Got anything to say now, funny man?" the bald man asked.

Tony nodded drunkenly. "Just… one more thing… what took you…so long, Boss?"

It took a full second for both men to realise that Tony was looking behind them. Panic flashed in their eyes as they turned and fired quickly without taking aim. Gibbs wasted no time, double tapping Ed in the heart and putting a round in Bill's head. As Ed started to fall, his fingers clenched reflexively and another round fired from his weapon and struck the gas tank under the stove.

The initial explosion had enough force to knock Gibbs off his feet. Momentarily dazed he climbed to his feet as the cabin filled with choking smoke and fumes. As he reached Tony, he noticed that the younger man was struggling to hold his head up.

Gibbs crouched beside him. He tucked the gun into the pocket of his jacket and used the knife to untie Tony's feet and then his hands. He hauled him to his feet, flinging Tony's arm around his shoulders.

"Come on, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, supporting most of Tony's weight. "Don't pass out on me now!"

"I'm with ya…Boss," Tony gasped weakly. "And DiNozzo's don't…pass out!"

"So you keep telling me," Gibbs replied.

The fire in the galley was spreading quickly and Gibbs struggled to get them passed it and back onto the deck. He looked around for any sign of land or other boats but could see nothing in the darkness. The fire was fully engaged now and Gibbs knew it was a matter of time before it reached the fuel tanks. There was no other option, they had to swim for it.

He turned Tony to face him and held his hands either side of Tony's bruised and bloodied face to ensure he had his attention. His left eye was now swollen completely shut.

"Tony, listen to me," Gibbs said. "We have to get out of here, the fuel tank is going to blow. We have to jump."

Tony nodded his head numbly, his right eye glassy and unfocussed. Gibbs clipped him at the back of the head, and Tony immediately became more alert.

"You with me, Tony?" Gibbs asked. "We'll do this together, okay?"

"I'm with ya, Boss," Tony mumbled.

Gibbs grabbed a firm hold on Tony's arm and assisted him to the side of the boat. He climbed up beside him, not liking the dazed look that had returned to cloud his senior field agent's expression. Gibbs chanced a final look back at the fire-ravaged cabin.

"Time to go, DiNozzo!" he said. They were mid-jump when the fuel tanks exploded. The blast concussion from the explosion flung them both through the air and into the ocean.

The frigidity of the saltwater stole his breath away and stung the open gash on the back of his head. Gibbs was disorientated as he fought his way to the surface. The force of the explosion had ripped Tony's arm from Gibbs' grasp. He called Tony's name frantically waiting for the younger man to surface.

He didn't.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Seven**

FBI Agent, Tobias Fornell was about as incensed as he was ever likely to be. One of his agents, Robert Jeffries, had conspired with the boss of a major organised crime syndicate to take the life of a fellow FBI agent and, perhaps, two other federal agents. He wanted him and he wasn't about to let inter-department politics stand in the way.

Truth be told, NCIS Director, Jenny Shepard, was pleased to have Fornell's assistance on this one. She knew that he and Jethro didn't always see eye to eye - hell, they were like two tough old mountain goats, locking horns almost every time they met - but she knew Gibbs trusted Fornell and that was good enough for her. After all, they were two men down until Gibbs and Tony could be found and they needed someone with Fornell's years of field and investigative experience.

McGee tracked Jeffries to his apartment, using the GPS chip in his cell. He continued to monitor the cell from the bullpen while Ziva and Fornell went to the apartment.

After obtaining a passkey from the on-site manager, they rode the elevator to the 13th floor and cautiously approached the door to Jeffries apartment. Fornell tried the key, but it didn't open the door.

"Jeffries had the locks changed," Fornell said.

Ziva shrugged her shoulders. "No problem," she grinned, crouching by the door and unlocking it in seconds.

Fornell kicked the door open and they entered the apartment with their weapons drawn. They secured the empty apartment, noting that only the barest amount of furniture remained.

Ziva entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of rotten and rancid food assaulted her senses. She checked the milk carton and found the milk to be soured.

"It looks like he has not been staying here for a few days," Ziva said.

"But he was here today," Fornell said holding Jeffries cell phone in his hand. "I called him on this phone this morning."

"A diversion," Ziva stated. "He knew we would trace his phone to find him."

Fornell nodded his head. "He knows we're on to him. He's running."

Ziva answered her cell on the second ring. McGee advised her that Jack Olsen, the FBI Medical Examiner who had falsified the autopsy reports, had just shown up to begin his night shift. Ziva asked McGee to send a team to process Jeffries apartment and they left for the Hoover Building.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs took a huge gulp of air and dove below the surface. Tony had been no more than four feet to his right when they hit the water. The visibility was minimal. Swimming downward he strained his eyes for any sign of his senior field agent, silently cursing himself for losing his grip on him.

He felt the pressure building in his ears and had to pause briefly to equalise them and avoid damage to his eardrums. After what felt like minutes but had been only seconds, Gibbs caught sight of Tony's seemingly lifeless form about 15 feet below him.

His concussion and the pressure caused by his descent in the water, took a painful, vice-like grip on his head and his lungs burned, desperate for air, as Gibbs took one final lunge towards Tony and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He pulled Tony towards him, alarmed by his lack of movement and snaked his arm around his chest before heading for the surface again.

His skull felt like it was about to implode but he refused to stop again to equalise his ears. He was intent on getting Tony to the surface as quickly as possible.

He broke the surface, sucking in as much air as he could, and felt Tony's carotid for a pulse. It was there, weak and thready but it was there. He knew, even before they'd surfaced, that Tony had stopped breathing.

"Damn!" he cursed.

Treading water for them both, Gibbs wrapped his arms around Tony's waist from behind. He made a fist and pushed the thumb side of his fist into Tony's upper abdomen, below his ribcage but above his navel. He took hold of his fist with his other hand and pushed into Tony's upper abdomen with a fast, upward thrust. He repeated the movement several times until he heard the soft gurgling sound and watched with relief as Tony began to cough harshly, expelling water from his lungs. Gibbs continued with the compressions until he heard Tony draw his first ragged breath, then his second and then his third.

"Atta boy, Tony!" he encouraged.

Tony was still unconscious. His breathing was shallow and wheezy and his head rested against Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs tried to keep them both afloat in the swell of the ocean as they drifted aimlessly with the tide.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

FBI Medical Examiner, Jack Olsen was preparing to perform another autopsy when Fornell and Ziva arrived. He looked up as he heard the doors open and watched the two visitors walk in.

"Agent Fornell," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me why you'd throw away your career to falsify the autopsy report of a colleague," Fornell said getting straight down to business.

The ME backed away from the autopsy table. He raised his hands palms out in a non-threatening gesture.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he claimed.

"No?" Fornell asked, walking into the man's personal space and backing him against a wall. "I'm talking about Agent Paul Monroe. His autopsy report was a farce. It was made to look like a suicide when, in fact, Agent Monroe was murdered."

A fine sheen of sweat broke out on the ME's brow.

"I can assure you, Agent Fornell, any discrepancies were certainly unintentional."

Fornell pushed him forcefully into the wall. He slammed his hand just beside Olsen's head and caused him to flinch fearfully.

"We know about Jeffries," he hissed. "Tell us what your connection is?

"I…I don't know what you're talking about," the ME repeated.

Fornell grabbed the lapels of the ME's white jacket, all but lifting him off his feet.

"Yes you do, and you better tell us or we will introduce you to a world of pain," he growled.

The ME was unnerved by the steely look on Fornell's face. He knew Fornell was a hard-ass but he also knew him to be a by the book and law-abiding agent. He was confident that Fornell would not lay a hand on him.

"I know you, Fornell," he said smugly. "You won't hurt me."

Fornell smiled dangerously. "Where are my manners?" he asked. "You two don't know each other. This is Officer Ziva David. Ziva is a liaison officer assigned to NCIS."

Olsen's eyes flicked from one to the other and he licked his lips nervously. Leaning closely, Fornell whispered in Olsen's ear.

"Officer David is a highly trained Mossad operative. She could torture you within an inch of your life and not leave a mark on you."

The ME looked at Ziva while weighing up his options.

'_How could this lovely, petite looking girl be a Mossad operative trained in torture techniques?' _He thought. He looked back to Fornell. "You're bluffing."

Fornell shrugged his shoulders. "Don't say you weren't warned," he remarked. "Ziva?"

Ziva stepped forward with a foreboding smile. She raised her hand and teasingly caressed the side of Olsen's face. Her dark eyes looked directly into his as her hand dropped to his shoulder. She smiled again but her eyes were ominous and threatening. Then she powerfully squeezed the pressure point in his neck with more force than her small frame should have been capable. Tony called it her Vulcan neck pinch although she really didn't understand why.

Olsen howled in pain as he unsuccessfully tried to free himself from Ziva's firm grip. He fell to his knees, his eyes watering and his face scarlet. Ziva applied more pressure.

"Okay, okay!!" he yelled. "I'll tell you what I know, just keep her away from me!!" Olsen yelled as Fornell and Ziva exchanged a rye smile.

Fornell placed Olsen in cuffs and led him to one of the FBI Interrogation Rooms. The Medical Examiner explained that he had developed a gambling problem that had not only cost him his marriage but had left him twenty thousand dollars in debt to a very disreputable loan shark.

He did not know how Agent Jeffries found out about his gambling debt. He agreed to falsify the autopsy report of Agent Paul Monroe and Agent Jeffries agreed to have his loan forgiven.

Leaving Olsen in the custody of other FBI agents, Ziva and Fornell then made their way to the FBI parking area where the attendant, Ronnie Farrell sat in his small office doing his paperwork.

It took very little time or intimidation for Farrell to fold like a house of cards and confess that Agent Jeffries had caught him "entertaining" his girlfriend on the premises one evening. To keep his job, he had agreed to allow Jeffries to borrow FBI vehicles from time to time, without signing them in or out. This explained how, according to the FBI database, the vehicle at the marina had not left the parking area for several days.

Fornell made another call and had Farrell held for further questioning. He and Ziva returned to the Navy yard to report their findings and see if there was any news on Tony and Gibbs.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs watched the burning boat until he could no longer see it in the darkness of the night. It had drifted rapidly in the opposite direction. Either it or they had been caught in a fast moving current. They had been in the water for about 50 minutes when Gibbs heard the engines of an approaching boat.

Gibbs kept his arms around Tony, keeping him afloat and his head above the water. He could feel Tony's chest rattle with every breath. As much as he needed to get Tony out of the water, he knew the boat was the rendezvous that their captors had arranged. To make their presence known would be certain death. The boat circled the area several times and headed off in the opposite direction.

In the pale moonlight Gibbs could see Tony's battered face and called his name as he started to regain consciousness. Confused and disoriented Tony fought against the strong arms holding him above the water. A gentle clip to the back of the head settled him.

"B..Boss?" he said. His voice was weak and he shivered violently.

"You back with me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"_Back_ with you, B..Boss?" Tony asked, his confusion evident. "Did I leave?"

Gibbs smiled. "How do you feel?"

"H-how do I l-look?" Tony replied trying to suppress a cough.

"Like crap, DiNozzo!" Gibbs answered.

"C-cold c-crap," Tony confirmed. Feeling a little embarrassed, he tried to pull out of Gibbs' protective hold and hissed in pain as his broken clavicle shifted position. "C-cold, b-busted up, c-crap." He corrected. "H-how long w-was I out?"

"'bout an hour."

Tony turned his head so he could see Gibbs with his good eye. "Y-you o-okay?"

"Better than you, Tony."

"Y-you know w-where we are?"

"We could be half way to Africa for all I know," Gibbs answered.

"Oh….. I th-thought you m-might be into celestial n-navigation."

"Do I look like Galileo to you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked with mock irritation.

"D-don't know w-what G-Galileo looked like, B-boss," Tony replied.

"Not like me," Gibbs remarked. His focus was drawn to an unidentifiable object that seemed to be trailing them. He squinted in the half-light and nodded in that direction.

"What do you think that is?" he asked Tony.

Tony's body tensed. "I d-don't wanna l-look, B-boss."

"What?? Why??" Gibbs snapped.

"I s-saw Jaws, t-twelve t-times when I was a k-kid," Tony explained. "If I'm g-gonna get eaten, I'd r-rather not s-see it coming."

'You think I'd be here saving your sorry ass if that was a great white, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. "I'd have thrown you to it to chew on and I'd be half-way to shore by now."

Tony looked aggrieved. "That hurts, B-boss!"

He looked in the direction Gibbs had indicated and saw something large bobbing up and down in the swell about 20 feet from them.

"L-looks like w-wood," Tony said.

"You okay for a minute?" Gibbs asked him.

When Tony nodded, Gibbs swam over to find a large piece of the cabin roof had been blown into the ocean when his boat exploded. It wasn't big enough to take both their weight but it could certainly take them one at a time. He pushed it back to where Tony was struggling to keep his head above the water.

"Okay, DiNozzo, hop aboard," he said.

"B-boss, what a-about y-you?"

"We'll take 30 minute shifts," Gibbs said. "Person on the raft rests and the person in the water kicks. Up you go, you rest first."

Gibbs helped Tony onto the make shift raft. It sunk a little under his weight but remained buoyant enough to enable the summer night breeze to warm his chilled body a little. He stifled a yell as his movement caused the broken ends of his clavicle to grind together.

"B-boss?" Tony said softly through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Tony."

"You th-think they're l-looking for us?" He asked, still shivering violently.

"Who? The good guys or the bad guys?"

"B-both."

"Yeah Tony. I think, come morning, they'll all be looking for us," Gibbs answered.

The silence that ensued led Gibbs to believe that Tony had fallen asleep until he heard his name called again.

"Boss?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Tony."

"How d-did you g-get the b-boat out of the b-basement?"

Gibbs lips quirked in a small smile. "Go to sleep, Tony!"

"Going to s-sleep, B-boss." Tony lay on his back, eyes closed to the pain as Gibbs held on the raft and kicked his legs.

Although Gibbs had no way of knowing for sure, he desperately hoped they were heading ashore and not further out to sea.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Eight**

Robert Jeffries had made his way back to the luxurious home of Frank Burgess. He paced anxiously in the spacious, expensively furnished living room. The large clock on the mantle chimed twice indicating it was 2am. Jeffries usual calm and confident persona had been replaced by nervousness and uncertainty. His carefully thought out and executed plan was unravelling fast and Burgess had demanded his presence to explain. He knew, too well, that Burgess was a dangerous and unpredictable man.

He turned quickly as the door opened behind him and Burgess and two large bodyguards entered the room.

"Agent Jeffries," Burgess remarked flatly. "It seems that the plans you orchestrated and were very generously paid for, have gone to hell in a hand-basket. How do you explain that?"

"Sir, it seems we may have underestimated NCIS," Jeffries explained. "They were able to establish that Monroe was murdered and they arrested the FBI Medical Examiner I used to falsify the reports."

"Will he talk?" Burgess asked.

Jeffries scoffed. "Yes, Sir. I believe he will but they can only link him to me. He has no knowledge of your involvement and as soon as this job is done, I'll be leaving the country. The FBI and NCIS will never find me."

Burgess poured himself a brandy and eyed Jeffries coldly.

"What about you, Jeffries? Can you be linked to me? My sources say that NCIS already knows that you are involved in this."

"They may think that, Sir, but they have no proof to link us together. I am an MIT graduate. I know how to bury information in a computer system and have it stay buried," Jeffries said definitively. "The funds you transferred to my special account have been hidden in so much virtual red tape and have so many data protection programs that you'd need to be a computer genius to make the connection."

"And what about DiNozzo and his Boss?" Burgess said. "They have been eliminated?"

Jeffries drew a deep breath. "I'm not sure, Sir," he said tentatively.

Burgess threw his brandy glass against the wall as his fury erupted but when he spoke it was in a low, harsh voice.

"You told me you had this under control. You told me it would be handled. What happened?"

"Well, Sir, we know that our men made it to the yacht and were holding DiNozzo and Gibbs. We know that the drug was lost overboard during a fight. At the time of our last contact, at approx 10-30, our men were instructed to take the yacht further out to sea, kill DiNozzo and Gibbs, weight the bodies and scuttle the boat in hundreds of feet of water."

"And?" Burgess hissed, his eyes cold and lifeless.

"We sent a boat to retrieve our men at the designated time and location," Jeffries said. "By the time they arrived, the yacht had burnt down to the water line. The remains of two bodies were seen – could be more but the men couldn't get close enough to tell."

"So, now we don't know whether Gibbs and DiNozzo are dead or alive?" Burgess growled.

"Yes, Sir," Jeffries replied.

"Find out, Jeffries, and find out quickly. Take a team out at first light and look for them. I don't care if you have to search every beach from here to Africa, you find them!" Burgess yelled, as the veins in his neck distended. "And, if DiNozzo is still alive, call me. After all the trouble he's caused – I'll put a bullet in his head myself!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

At 0200 the bullpen was eerily quiet. Most teams had left for the day, or night, depending on their caseload. The support staff, research teams, secretarial pool and even the janitorial staff had long gone. This left the Night Duty team and anyone else whose current case required their urgent attention.

Fornell and Ziva had returned a few hours ago and briefed the others on the involvement of FBI Medical Examiner, Jack Olsen and FBI Garage Attendant, Ronnie Farrell.

Jenny had made arrangements for McGee, Ziva and Fornell to take a Navy chopper at 0500 and rendezvous with the Navy Seals and Coast Guard to begin their search for Tony and Gibbs at first light. They had all refused to rest until their teammates were found – Jenny had expected nothing less.

They split into pairs to work on various leads or theories that may link Jeffries to Burgess and would result in them both being charged with conspiracy to murder three federal agents - that would ensure life in prison for both men.

McGee and Abby had been sitting at McGee's workstation. Having ruled out any common threads in Burgess and Jeffries backgrounds, they were still checking Jeffries banking records and were attempting to locate and follow a money trail.

Ziva and Fornell were following another lead. In light of Jeffries involvement, they found it too convenient that the initial warrant had been issued with the incorrect details. Two people in the FBI Legal Department had been dismissed as a result of this error – a paralegal and the supervisor who checked her work. Both had impeccable service records with the FBI and had sworn that they had taken the utmost care to ensure the details were correct. Both were unable to explain how the error had been made.

Jenny and Ducky were also still at the office awaiting any developments in the case and, of course, any news on Gibbs and Tony. They had arranged some take out and coffee to be delivered and were distributing it among the team. Ducky had even managed to scrounge up a Caf-Pow for Abby.

"We've got it!" Abby and McGee, Fornell and Ziva all exclaimed at the same time wearing the same satisfied expressions on their faces.

"Got what?" Fornell asked McGee.

"No, please, you go first!" McGee replied.

"We will wait, McGee," Ziva said. "Please tell us what you have found."

"We didn't mean to imply that what we found is way more important than whatever it is that you've found," Abby said.

Jenny and Ducky exchanged exasperated looks.

"Somebody say something!" Jenny said. "Ziva?"

"We were trying to find anything that might indicate that Jeffries was responsible for the issue of the incorrect warrant," Ziva said. "The information was sent electronically to the FBI Legal Team by Agent Fornell at 1245. We have checked the records and confirmed that the details of the warrant were correct at that point."

"Paralegal, Brenda Phillips, arrived back from her lunch break at 1300 and processed the warrant immediately," Fornell continued. "In accordance with FBI procedure, she took the warrant to her supervisor, Warren Prescott, for checking and sign-off. The details on the warrant had been altered in the period between 1245 and 1310."

"We were able to trace that the details were amended by someone using Ms Phillips' log in ID and password at 1251," Ziva said, "However, Ms Phillips did not check back into the building until 1258."

"Could she have logged in outside the building?" Ducky asked.

"No," Fornell replied. "All computer, email and work assignment programs in the Legal Department can only be accessed in the building."

"That's great!" McGee said. "Then all you have to do is check the IP address and see where the changes were made."

"We already did!" Ziva said looking very pleased with herself.

"And??" Jenny asked.

"The IP address matches the computer workstation of Agent Robert Jeffries," Fornell advised, his voice dripping with anger. "He logged in at 1251 and placed the incorrect details and then he logged in at 1315, after the warrant had been issued, and he changed the address back to the original format."

"But Jeffries would need her password to initiate her User ID." Jenny said.

"Are you kidding?? Jeffries is a fellow MIT graduate!!" McGee stated with a laugh. "Any one of us could hack a co-workers password like _that!_" he snapped his fingers to accentuate his point and then noticed the concerned looks on the faces of the others.

"I mean…not that _I would_…hack your passwords, I just meant that…I _could_ but _never would_…_never…ever…would_."

"Never ever??" Fornell asked, no doubt referring to the email McGee sent him from Gibbs' email address.

"Well…maybe not _never_….but that was a one off situation…a matter life and death!" McGee tried to explain.

"Perhaps, Agent McGee, you could tell us what you and Abby found," Jenny said, letting McGee off the hook before he hung himself with his own rope.

"Yes Ma'am," McGee said gratefully. "In a nutshell, we followed the money trail and found a Bank account opened in the name of Audrey Bennett. Turns out that she was Robert Jeffries aunt, but Jeffries has full signing authority and access to any funds in this account. The account had several layers of encryptions as protection from hackers but," he looked proudly at Abby, "we managed to hack in anyway."

Abby continued enthusiastically. "There were several large deposits made during the past three months totalling half a million dollars. These funds had been re-routed through the clearing centres of several overseas banks including Taiwan, Moscow, Hamburg and Jordan but the funds originated right here in Washington DC from a company account in the name of Leyton Importing Inc. It's one and only Director is….."

"Frank Burgess," they answered simultaneously.

"His duck is fried!" Ziva said eagerly.

Fornell eyes widened in surprise at the statement.

"Ah…Ziva," McGee said. "That saying is, his _goose is cooked_!"

He looked at Fornell and explained.

"She still has a little trouble with idioms…we're.. ah.. working on them."

"Actually, my dear Ziva," Ducky said, "I believe that adage dates back to the sixteenth century, where some folk in a small, besieged village, hung a goose from a tower as a symbol of contempt for the town's attackers. The goose was a proverbial symbol of stupidity and futility. The attackers, enraged, doubled their efforts and burned the town to the ground, thus fully cooking that goose."

Fornell shook his head and muttered quietly, "That's five minutes of my life, I'll never get back again."

"That's good work everyone!" Jenny said. With a quick glance at her watch she added. "McGee, Ziva, Fornell, the chopper will be here in ten minutes. Make sure you have satellite phones with you and stay in touch. I want sitreps every 30 minutes."

"Yes Ma'am," they said together.

"Go bring them home!" Jenny finished.

McGee gave Abby a quick hug and Ziva kissed Ducky quickly on the cheek as they checked their weapons, grabbed their gear and headed for the elevator.

"Wait, wait!! McGee!!"

McGee and the others turned back to see Abby running towards them.

"You'll need these," she said handing him a bottle of seasickness meds.

"Thanks, Abs," he said squeezing her hand as they turned and left for the heliport.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony shivered violently and his teeth chattered loudly as he lent against the makeshift raft and kicked his feet in the cold water. His chest rattled with every breath and his frequent fits of harsh coughing caused their own pain as his damaged lungs, protested his prolonged exposure to the cold ocean waters.

Gibbs tried to keep Tony out of the water as much as possible but the younger man had been furious when Gibbs hadn't woken him for his "shift". He had threatened to stay in the water until morning unless Gibbs let him share the workload.

'_And they call me a stubborn bastard,_' Gibbs thought - even though he had nothing but admiration for Tony's courage and determination.

Gibbs agreed to let Tony continue to share the workload. He wasn't surprised when, in his deteriorating condition, Tony didn't noticed that his shifts in the water were getting shorter and his rest periods longer as Gibbs found his own way to protect Tony from himself.

It was nearly 0530 and the pinkish tinge to the horizon heralded the arrival of morning. Gibbs looked around in the improving morning light and saw the dark outline of land about a mile to their port side. He jumped into the water beside Tony, startling his agent into another coughing fit. When the coughing had settled down, Tony frowned at his Boss.

"There are g-gentler ways of s-saying g-good morning, B-boss."

"How about this, DiNozzo!" Gibbs said pointing to the port side. "Land ho!"

Tony's head snapped up as he followed Gibbs' gaze. With his left eye still swollen shut his vision wasn't great.

"I'll have to t-take your w-word for it, Boss," he said with a crooked grin.

"The way this tide's running, we'll be there before you know it," Gibbs said.

They positioned themselves, half on and half off the makeshift raft. Shoulder to shoulder they kicked their legs and headed for shore.

"You know B-boss, this reminds m-me of the f-final scene in J-jaws. Y-you know, a-after they e-exploded the oxygen t-tank in the sh-sharks mouth and it r-rained shark g-guts. Th-then Roy S-schieder and R-Richard D-reyfuss f-find part of the b-boat f-floating and k-kicked their w-way back t-to shore."

"DiNozzo!!" Gibbs said in exasperation. "Less talking and more kicking or this raft's not the only thing I'll be kicking back to shore!"

"G-gotcha, B-Boss."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Fornell, McGee and Ziva were seated in the back of a Navy Sea Hawk helicopter on their way to rendezvous with the Navy Seals teams, when the pilot signalled for them to put their headsets on.

"We've just received a report that the Coast Guard located the "Kelly" approx 30 minutes ago," the pilot said. "I'm very sorry to have to tell you that it appears there was some kind of explosion. The yacht burned to the water line and was found drifting 60 miles south of Wineglass Bay."

"Any sign of Gibbs and DiNozzo?" Fornell asked.

"No, Sir, but the burnt remains of two bodies were found," the pilot advised grimly. "Coast Guard has secured the craft and is towing it in. It will be there when we land."

Fornell removed his headset and looked to the two young agents at his side. They were ashen faced as they hoped for the best but feared the worst.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Nine**

Fornell, McGee and Ziva climbed down from the Sea Hawk helicopter and in a crouching run, cleared the rotor area. They were met by Coast Guard Commander, Colin Nelson and taken to the dock where the "Kelly" had just been towed in.

For Ziva and McGee, the walk down the dock to the burnt out craft was frighteningly reminiscent. Their minds cast back12 months when, overcome by dread and apprehension they walked towards Tony's burnt out Mustang and the remains of a charred corpse they believed to be Tony.

Stopping in front of the boat they saw the unrecognisable remains of two bodies.

Ziva closed her eyes for a moment, her hand reached for the Star of David she wore on a chain around her neck as she whispered a silent prayer.

McGee's face was a picture of misery and he shook his head in an attempt to rid his mind of morbid thoughts and focus on the job at hand.

"I just spoke to your Director. She's on her way here," Commander Nelson said. "SecNav arranged a flight for her, your Medical Examiners and Forensic Specialist. They are bringing the equipment necessary to ID the bodies and should be here in 30 minutes."

The Commander waited for a response but seeing the grief-stricken faces, he continued.

"In the meantime, SecNav has ordered that the Seals and Coast Guard teams be despatched to a search area 20 square nautical miles surrounding the point where the Kelly was found, in case we have survivors in the water."

McGee nodded and cleared his throat to find his voice.

"We need to start processing the scene. Do you have a digital camera or sketch pad and pencils we can use until our equipment arrives?"

"Yes, we should have everything you need," the Commander advised.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The lapping of gentle waves over his feet and legs woke Gibbs from an exhausted sleep. It had been about two hours since he and Tony pushed their makeshift raft to shore and made their way to the beach on weak and rubbery legs. Thoroughly spent, they lay on their backs on the sand, closed their eyes and failed in their attempts to stave off the fatigue that quickly overwhelmed them.

Gibbs' muscles groaned in protest and his head pounded as he painfully climbed to his feet and looked around. Tony was laying insensate to his right, the bruising and swelling around his left eye was vivid in the morning light. Gibbs' eyes narrowed to a squint as he heard the soft wheezing sounds emanating from Tony's airway.

Tony's brow creased into a frown and he tried to turn away from the voice that was trying to draw him from his sleep. The voice was persistent and with an irritated moan, he opened his right eye to a slit. A few seconds passed before the world came into focus and he realized he was looking into Gibbs' concerned face.

"Boss?" he croaked, immediately triggering a coughing fit that left him gasping for breath.

"Take it easy," Gibbs said.

"I'm okay…I'm good," Tony replied, suppressing another cough. "Could use some water."

"Can you sit up?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah…think so," Tony mumbled. Supporting his broken right collarbone with his left hand, Tony lifted his head and shoulders only three inches before sagging wearily back into the sand. Sighing heavily, he peered up at Gibbs with his good eye.

"How'd I do?" he asked.

"Not so good," Gibbs replied, crouching beside him.

He took a firm hold of Tony's good shoulder and assisted him to a sitting position. The movement triggered more wet sounding hacking coughs. When the coughing subsided Tony looked around at the expanse of beach and ocean in front of him.

"Is this an island, Boss?" he asked.

"Not sure," Gibbs answered. "Could be a peninsular. It's hard to tell from here."

Gibbs noticed the lines of pain etched into Tony's face.

"Let me see your shoulder," he said.

"I'm fine, Boss," Tony lied, his shoulder was throbbing with pain.

Gibbs gently pulled back the neck of Tony's sweater and grimaced as he saw the unnatural outward protrusion of his broken collarbone.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and glared at Tony.

"This doesn't look fine, DiNozzo."

"Boss, you and I both know that there's not much we can do out here with this kind of injury," Tony said resolutely.

Gibbs knew the pain would have be severe but had to agree that there wasn't much they could do until they returned home, except immobilise the arm. Hugging his arm close to his body, Tony paled and closed his eyes as Gibbs pulled the bottom of his sweater, up and over his arm and shoulder in a temporary sling.

Standing, Gibbs looked directly behind them noting a large hill overlooking the beach.

"Looks like a good place for a signal fire," he said. "What do you think?"

When Tony didn't answer, Gibbs tried again.

"Hey, DiNozzo!"

Tony still didn't respond, his eyes were still closed and he was breathing deeply through his nose. Gibbs knelt in front of him.

"Hey! You okay?"

Tony opened his good eye slowly and met Gibbs' gaze.

"Boss…I'm sorry," he said, his face a picture of genuine despair.

Gibbs was confused. "Sorry for what?" he asked.

Tony needed a few more deep breaths before he found his voice again.

"For all of this," he said quietly. "They were coming for _me_, Boss. You heard them. They didn't want you, they said that you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"This isn't your fault Tony," Gibbs insisted.

"Really, Boss? The only reason you're out here is because of me!" Tony's voice rose in frustration. "They were going to kill you because you were with me. They wanted to destroy your boat because I was on it!! _They were coming after me!!"_

Gibbs clipped Tony hard across the back of his head stunning the younger man momentarily. He took a firm grip on Tony's jaw and turned his head until blue eyes met green. Tony repeated again, in a soft voice.

"They were coming for me, Boss."

"DiNozzo! You are my senior field agent," Gibbs said in a tone of voice that brooked no arguments. "If they were coming for you, then they were coming for us!"

"Boss, your boat…" Tony felt the telltale irritation at the back of his parched throat and doubled over as another round of harsh coughing besieged him, sending shards of pain through his injured shoulder. Gibbs placed a hand on his back to steady him. When the coughing ceased and Tony regained control of his breathing, he felt Gibbs' hand move to the back of his neck and give a gentle squeeze.

"I can always build another boat, Tony," Gibbs said, "but people can't be replaced."

Gibbs hauled Tony carefully to his feet. "Come on. Let's have a look around. We need to find a way up that hill, we need to build a signal fire and find some water."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

FBI Agent, Tobias Fornell wasn't an easy man to know. He was obstinate, some would say arrogant, many would say overbearing but to everyone who knew him he was hard but fair man who spent his life seeking justice for others.

He had lost men under his command before. He had lost colleagues and friends in the line of duty. He knew the pain it caused and saw that pain reflected on the faces of Ziva and McGee as they prepared to work the crime scene on the boat.

Tobias was not a man without feelings and he regarded Gibbs as the closest thing he had to a friend. Despite the differences they'd shared – or the ex-wife for that matter – he believed he owed it to Gibbs to watch over his people and help lessen their grief if he could. So he found himself in the rubble of the burnt out hull, dusting for prints, taking measurements, gathering evidence and taking photos. In his gruff, no nonsense manner, he assisted Ziva and McGee to process, what could be, the place where Tony and Gibbs had died.

Ducky and Palmer's arrival at the dock was almost Ziva and McGee's undoing. The sorrowful, heartsick expression on Ducky's usually cheerful face had them both struggling to maintain their professional demeanour. Palmer followed closely behind, visibly shaken and with doleful eyes.

The elder statesman of the team gave them both a quick nod as he made his way onto the remains of the boat to examine the bodies.

McGee grabbed Palmers' arm and asked with concern, "Where's Abby?"

"She's at the Coast Guard Head Quarters," Palmer answered softly. "She's setting up her equipment so she can identify the bodies when we get back there."

"How is she?" Ziva asked.

"She's devastated," Palmer replied. "She keeps vowing that Tony and Gibbs aren't dead but she hasn't stopped crying since we heard about…since we heard about this. Director Shepard is staying with her. Uh, I should go help Doctor Mallard."

"McGee, do you think Abby could be right?" Ziva said. "Do you think that Tony and Gibbs could still be alive?"

"I hope so, Ziva, but I just don't know," McGee replied before returning to his work.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—

The Coast Guard and Navy Seals sectioned and allocated the designated search area 20 square nautical miles from where the "Kelly" was found drifting and began a methodical search for any survivors.

A Coast Guard Response Vessel signalled for the fast approaching luxury speedboat to pull alongside.

The watercrafts were side by side, when the Coast Guard Officer called to the occupants of the other boat.

"I'm sorry, Gentlemen, this is a restricted area until further notice. We're conducting a search. You can't go any further."

The man closest to the Coast Guard vessel flashed a badge.

"Lieutenant, we're with the FBI. We heard about the missing federal agents. We've worked with these men in the past and want to join the search."

"Thanks for the offer, Sir, but the search area has already been allocated to Navy Seals and Coast Guard teams. I have orders not to allow anyone into the search area," the Lieutenant replied.

"Is it true you found their boat, Lieutenant, and the remains of their bodies?"

"Yes, Sir, two bodies," he replied. "The Medical Examiner is with them as we speak. They will take the bodies to the Coast Guard morgue to confirm the identities."

"We understand that you have your orders, Lieutenant. How about this? It won't hurt to extend the search area a little, just in case. The boys and I would be happy to search, say 5 square miles above this point. We just want to help find our friends," he said with feigned sincerity.

"I'm sure that will be fine, Sir," the Lieutenant agreed. "But should you find anything, please contact the Coast Guard right away."

"Of course, Lieutenant," the agent said handing his business card. "And should you have any news whatsoever on our friends Jethro and Tony, good or bad, we'd appreciate a call. My new cell number is on the back."

"Of course, ah…." the Lieutenant looked at the business card. "…Agent Jeffries. As soon as we here anything, I'll let you know."

The large speedboat turned and headed away from the Coast Guard, Jeffries couldn't help but smile.

"Good news, Jeffries?" Came Burgess' voice from large the cabin below.

"Yes, Sir," Jeffries replied. "It seems the Navy and Coast Guard have targeted their search in the area the boat was found. We know the rendezvous point was 40 miles north of there. If Gibbs and DiNozzo survived the explosion the search and rescue teams are looking in the wrong direction. Plus, as soon as the bodies in the boat have been identified, that Coast Guard Commander will call us personally to let us know whether Gibbs and DiNozzo are dead."

"Very good, Mr Jeffries. With 40 miles between us and the search and rescue teams, should we find Gibbs and DiNozzo, we can easily dispose of them and nobody will be any the wiser," Burgess said and ordered the speedboat driver to head back to the rendezvous point as fast as possible.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

"Ducky?" McGee's soft voice disturbed Ducky from his thoughts. "Anything you can tell us?"

Ducky took a deep breath to clear his thoughts.

"Not a lot, at this point my dear boy," Ducky replied. "I'm afraid a preliminary time of death is out of the question. The bodies were both burnt beyond recognition. The body mass is almost impossible to determine due to the shrinkage and intense dehydration caused by the fire but they are both rather tall."

He pointed towards one of the corpses.

"This one is over six feet and appears to have been wearing rather expensive Italian leather shoes – it could be Anthony," he almost whispered.

McGee was almost overwhelmed by the putrefied smell of the burnt corpses as he watched Palmer prepare the body bags for transportation to the morgue.

"Cause of death, Ducky?"

"That will, of course, be confirmed with the autopsy, however, this one had been shot in the head at rather close range, if the size of the hole in the back of his skull is anything to go by. The other appears to have two bullet holes in the chest, right through the heart. I believe the autopsy will confirm that they were already dead before the fire."

Ducky signed audibly, his face drawn with suppressed emotion and grief.

"Come, Mr Palmer," he said. "The sooner we get them to autopsy, the sooner we'll know whether they really are Jethro and Anthony."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Ten**

At any other time, Anthony DiNozzo could have run up the incline of the large hill and his breath would not have blown out a candle. Today, he needed to stop three times as the urge to cough overwhelmed him, doubling him over and leaving him greedily gulping whooping breaths of air to try to satisfy his oxygen starved lungs.

When Gibbs walked back to assist him, he waved him away with his good hand.

"I'm…good, Boss!" he gasped. "I'll…meet you…at the top."

Gibbs shook his head at Tony's obstinacy but gave him his space and continued to the top of the hill. Tony joined him, moments later. His chest heaving and feeling light headed from the exertion.

"We're definitely on an island." Gibbs said, the elevation of the hill allowing a much better view of their location. "Can't see any streams or waterfalls but the trees are pretty dense on that side of the island. Looks like fresh water may be a problem."

The very mention of water constricted Tony's parched throat and triggered another round of harsh, chesty coughing. When it finally subsided, he looked at Gibbs with one watery green eye.

"Sorry, Boss," he said. "Was really hoping for some water."

Gibbs clasped a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Me too, Tony," he said.

Still looking at the view of the island, he placed his hands in his pockets and removed his gun and his Zippo lighter. Both would need to be pulled apart, dried and re-built but he was confident they could be restored to working order.

"You got anything on you?" Gibbs asked.

"Boss, this sweater and these board shorts are all I've….."

Tony broke off his statement as his eyes widened and he reached for the Velcro pocket in the back of his shorts. He gave Gibbs a crooked grin as he opened his hand and revealed his knife.

"Rule number nine, Boss."

"Good job, Tony."

He should have known Tony would have the knife with him. It had been a gift from Gibbs a few years back and the younger man counted it among his most prized possessions, probably even slept with the damn thing for all Gibbs knew.

"You didn't think to grab some shoes?" Gibbs scolded lightly.

Tony looked from his sand-covered bare feet back to Gibbs' face.

"If you recall, Boss, I was a little busy having the crap knocked out of me at the time."

Gibbs nodded and looked around again. "There's enough vegetation up here for us to make a large signal fire," he said. "You take a break and I'll get started."

Tony's body stiffened and he drew himself up to his full height.

"I'm not sitting in the shade, while you do all the work, Boss!" he said indignantly. "You wouldn't even be stuck here if it wasn't for me!"

"Hey!" Gibbs yelled. "I thought we settled that."

"You settled it," Tony said petulantly. "I still have some unresolved issues and one of them is not sitting on my ass like some hot house lily while you do all the work!"

"DiNozzo, you've got a broken collarbone, one eye is swollen shut and you've been coughing your lungs up since last night. I only have to look at you to know you're running a fever. Take a break and conserve your energy. You're gonna need it if we can't find any food or water."

Tony stood his ground defiantly. "What about you?" he asked angrily. "You think I didn't notice the dried blood caked over the gash at the back of your head or the way you wince and turn away from the sun because the light hurts your eyes?"

Tony was forced to stop as the tickle in his throat led to more coughing but continued his rant once he was able.

"I've had enough concussions to know the signs, Boss! But are you taking it easy? No!!" he took a few breaths and lowered his voice but the steely determination remained. "I've still got one good eye and one good arm and I can do my share."

For a long moment, it appeared they had reached an impasse. Gibbs should have known Tony would notice signs of a concussion, no matter how well he had tried to disguise them. The younger man's powers of observation were second to none.

One of the things that appealed to him most when he recruited DiNozzo was his willingness to stand his ground and fight for his convictions, even if it meant going up against Gibbs himself from time to time. He saw the muscles flex in Tony's jaw and knew that there would be no talking him down – for now anyway.

"Okay," Gibbs agreed. "We build the signal fire first and then we both rest."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ducky and Palmer transported the corpses to the small morgue at the local Coast Guard office. The morgue was nowhere near as state of the art as their NCIS facilities but it was adequate.

They were not required to perform a full autopsy until they returned the bodies to NCIS. Today, identification was the priority. They set up their equipment to take tissue and blood samples, dental x-rays and, if possible, finger prints from the bodies.

Having placed both corpses on the tables, Ducky was about to take the blood samples as Palmer wheeled the portable x-ray machine into the room.

"Mr Palmer, would you be so kind as to pass me a syringe?" Ducky asked.

When there was no response, he called again. "Mr Palmer!"

Ducky turned and saw Palmer standing not five feet away, obviously lost in thought. He reached for the syringe himself and turned to his young assistant.

"Mr Palmer?" he asked. "Whatever is the matter?"

Jimmy looked at the doctor as if noticing him for the first time.

"Doctor," he said quietly. "I don't think I can do this."

"Of course you can, Mr Palmer. You and I have been doing this together for several years now," Ducky replied.

"But Doctor, this could be Tony and Agent Gibbs," Jimmy said, his voice a little above a whisper.

Ducky sighed audibly, his eyes revealing the grief he was valiantly trying to suppress.

"Yes, yes it could be," he said nodding his head sadly. "And that's what we must determine, Mr Palmer. It's no different from the time you assisted me with the autopsy when Anthony's car exploded."

"I know, Doctor," Palmer replied, "but the better I get to know them the harder this gets. I don't know how you do it?"

Ducky removed his gloves and grasped his assistant by both biceps.

"Nonsense my boy. If these bodies are, indeed, Jethro and Anthony's, would you prefer that someone who doesn't care for them performed their autopsies? Someone who may not treat them with the love and respect they deserve?"

"No!" Jimmy replied. "Of course not Doctor."

"Did you think it was easy for Ziva and Timothy to investigate and photograph the crime scene, knowing that these bodies could belong to their teammates?" Ducky asked gently. "Don't you think that Abigail will be horrified at the thought of running the tests that may prove that two men she adores are dead?"

Ducky released Palmer and walked back to look at the bodies.

"This is what we do, Mr Palmer," Ducky said softly, "but if you would rather not assist me today, my boy, I _do_ understand."

"No Doctor, I want to assist you – for Agent Gibbs and Tony," he said sadly.

"Good lad!" Ducky replied with a nod.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva, McGee and Agent Fornell returned with the evidence, sketches and photographs taken from the crime scene on the boat. They met Director Shepard at the entrance to Coast Guard Head Quarters.

Abby's "babies" had been set up in a large vacant room to assist with the identification of the bodies but Abby was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she?" McGee asked.

"She's sitting in the far corner. I've been trying to coax her out of there for an hour but she wouldn't leave," Jenny replied.

McGee walked into the large room. Looking around he saw the forensic equipment and computers that had been transported from Abby's lab. Even Major Mass Spec had made the trip. They had all been set up and were waiting for Abby to call them to action.

McGee walked further into the room and heard the soft sounds of Abby crying. He found her sitting cross-legged in the corner of her temporary lab.

"Abs?" he spoke her name softly as he sat on the floor next to her.

She looked up at him, eyes swollen and shining brightly with tears and her mascara running down her pale cheeks. He pulled her closely to him in a tight embrace and she buried her face in his neck.

"They're not dead, Tim!" Abby sobbed. "They just can't be!"

"I know Abs," McGee replied, wrestling with his own composure.

"I don't want to run the tests," she said shaking her pig-tailed head furiously. "I mean, I know it's my job and that's what I do and normally I love my job so much! But I don't want to be the one to prove that Gibbs and Tony are dead. I won't do it, McGee. I cant do it!"

"Abs, listen to me," McGee said looking Abby directly in the eyes.

"Gibbs always tells us to listen to our guts, right?" McGee asked and Abby nodded.

"What does your gut tell you, Abs?"

"It tells me that Gibbs and Tony are alive," she answered.

"And if your gut is right, Tony and Gibbs may still be somewhere in the ocean and in need of our help," McGee said. "The sooner we know Abs, the sooner we can go and look for them."

Abby's resolve changed like someone flicked a switch. "You're right, Timmy!" she said with the glimmer of hope reflecting in her eyes. "They could be floating around out there right now and, like, totally needing our help," she said climbing to her feet.

"Bring me the evidence! I have tests to run!" she demanded impatiently.

As McGee turned towards the door, she ran to him and wrapped him in a huge embrace. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said. "What if it _is_ them?"

"Then we'll deal with it together," he whispered back and kissed her on the cheek.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Building a sizable signal fire in the heat of the day had proven to be more arduous than Tony thought. His shoulder ached mercilessly despite his efforts to immobilise it. The effort required to suppress the constant urge to cough left him listless and dizzy but he refused to take a break until the job was done.

They worked together in silence and gathered enough dry foliage and branches to last the rest of the day and through the night. Gibbs watched Tony's body language slowly deteriorate.

Having completed the signal fire, they decided to take a break and walked towards the shade of a large tree. Gibbs cringed at the nasty hacking coughing fit that brought Tony to his knees. He was quickly at his side steadying the younger man as they made their way to the tree.

"Come on," Gibbs said. "Let's take a break before you pass out."

"I keep…telling you…Boss," Tony gasped. "DiNozzo's…don't… pass out! It's a rule!"

"A rule?" Gibbs said with a surprised tone in his voice.

"You've got…your rules, Boss, and…I've got …mine," Gibbs helped Tony sit down – propped up with his back against the tree to assist his laboured breathing.

Gibbs used the time to pull down the gun, ensuring it was clean and dry and putting it back together with expert precision. He was surprised to find that the Zippo lighter worked perfectly, it's casing obviously protected its inner workings from the water.

He walked back to the signal fire and lit it, ensuring that the greener foliage produced a thick black smoke that would be more noticeable in the sky.

"When you've had some rest, we need to look for water," Gibbs said, with his back to Tony. He knew they could survive several days without food but they both needed fresh water desperately.

"Tony?" he said.

Turning his head in Tony's direction he saw the younger man had fallen asleep. His head lolled at an awkward angle that guaranteed him a stiff neck and his mouth was open a little allowing short raspy breath sounds to escape. Walking back to Tony, Gibbs placed the palm of his hand on Tony's forehead and frowned as he felt the heat of a fever.

The fire was well alight now and should burn for a few hours without requiring extra wood. Gibbs looked around and found a stick, then wrote a message in the sand in case Tony woke. "Gone to find water. STAY PUT!!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ducky and Palmer had delivered the blood and tissue samples and the dental x-rays to Abby for analysis and comparison. There were no salvageable fingerprints on the bodies. They also delivered the bullets removed from the chest of victim number one.

During a rousing, motivational oratory, Abby summoned her "babies" to concentrate all of their efforts on processing the tests faster and more accurately than ever before.

Despite this, she knew that even with her state of the art equipment, it would be a few hours before they would have a definitive answer on the DNA and an hour before for the dental records would be faxed from DC.

Abby began the process of matching the blood types and her heart sunk when the blood samples taken from the victims matched Tony's and Gibbs'. She was almost inconsolable until Ducky convinced her that the blood types were the most common known. These results were not irrefutable proof that the bodies belonged to Tony and Gibbs.

Ziva, McGee, Jenny, Palmer and Fornell all gathered in the Coast Guard conference room, discussing the case while anxiously waiting for the results of Abby's tests and any news from the search parties. The Coast Guard and Navy continued their air and sea search at least 40 miles from Gibbs and Tony's actual location.

"It does not make sense." Ziva said.

"What doesn't?" McGee asked.

"Tony wearing such expensive shoes," she answered.

"_All_ Tony's clothes are expensive, especially his shoes," McGee stated. "The guy looks like he stepped out of Men's Vogue Magazine!"

"Yes, I know but I do not believe that Gibbs would allow Tony on his boat wearing expensive Italian loafers," Ziva insisted. "He would make him wear something more, practical, yes?"

They all jumped to their feet as Abby came bounding out of her temporary lab with Ducky hot on her heels.

"We have good news!" she said.

"The blood samples don't match," McGee said hopefully.

"The blood samples _do_ match," Abby said.

"So, why is that good news?" he asked.

"It's not," Abby answered.

"But you said you had good news," McGee said.

"I do!" Abby insisted. "But it's not the blood types."

"Then, what is it?" McGee asked.

"It's the dental records," Abby told them.

"You received the dental records from DC already?" McGee inquired.

"No, at least, not yet," Abby replied. "They should be here in an hour."

"And _that_ is your good news?" McGee stated.

"No, silly," Abby said, rolling her eyes.

"Abby, please tell us," Jenny asked. "It's been a long couple of days and we could all use some good news."

"I'm trying to Director but McGee won't let me get a word in!!" Abby defended, punching McGee in the arm.

"You all need to come into my lab…that is…my interim, temporary, alternate lab."

She grabbed the hands of Ziva and Jenny, pulling them along behind her. Fornell, Ducky, Palmer and McGee followed, the latter still rubbing his sore shoulder.

When they were all in the lab they noticed a three-dimensional graphic of a set of teeth on Abby's computer monitor. When she had their undivided attention, Abby began.

"This is the drop dead gorgeous smile that belongs to our Very Special Agent, Anthony DiNozzo," Abby said.

"Abby, I thought you said the dental records hadn't arrived?" Jenny asked.

"They haven't. This is the mock up of Tony's teeth we made when he was framed, wrongfully accused of a murder he did not commit and incarcerated by the FBI!" Abby's eyes shot daggers at Fornell. "I'm sure you remember that Agent Fornell."

"She's never going to forgive me for that, is she?" Fornell whispered to the others.

"No," they replied without hesitation.

Abby continued. "These teeth, do NOT match the dental x-rays Ducky took of victim 1 OR victim 2. Neither of the bodies is Tony's!!"

Smiles of relief showed on every face. Abby was practically pulsating with excitement.

"Wait! I'm not done, yet. Ducky checked both victims for a gunshot wound to the left shoulder. Neither victim had ever been shot there."

Realisation began to dawn on the team as Abby explained.

"Ari shot Gibbs in the shoulder! It was a through and through. He has a scar of the front and back of his left shoulder and a large calcium deposit on his shoulder blade where the bullet penetrated and the bone healed. Neither of these bodies is Gibbs'!!"

"The bodies found in the boat, _do not_ belong to Tony and Gibbs!!" Abby concluded.

Fornell asked the question they were all thinking. "If Gibbs and DiNozzo survived the explosion on the boat – then where the hell are they?"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo0oo--oo00oo--


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Eleven**

Director Jenny Shepard left the rest of the team and placed an urgent call to SecNav. If her Agents had escaped the explosion on the boat and made it into the ocean, then there was a chance they were still alive and she wanted them found _now! _If that meant additional search teams would have to be made available, then so be it!

There were only two hours of daylight left. Jenny knew that it would take time for more search teams to arrive and it was unlikely they would be here before dark. Gibbs and Tony may have been already been in the water for up to 18 hours. It was improbable that they would make it through another night in the ocean, but if there was one thing Jenny had learned about Gibbs and DiNozzo, it was that they had a way of beating the odds.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Even without Caf-Pow Abby was working up a storm in her temporary lab. In the hours since Abby's euphoric announcement that Gibbs and Tony were alive, the DNA comparison confirmed unconditionally that the bodies on the boat were not Gibbs and Tony.

The agents were able to lift four sets of prints from the remains of the cabin doorframe. They eliminated Tony's and Gibbs' leaving two sets of unknown prints that Abby was running through the AFIS database.

Fornell, McGee and Ziva were waiting in Abby's lab, discussing possible scenarios and the next step in their investigation when a loud beep sounded from one of Abby's computers.

"My baby's calling!" She ran to the equipment and typed in a few commands. "I've got a hit on the prints!" she said as Ziva, McGee and Fornell gathered around.

In the absence of her plasma screen she pointed to the monitor of the computer where two photos appeared. "I'll send for their dental records to be sure, but it looks like our crispy critters from the boat are Edward Allen Daley and William Henry Bollard."

McGee lifted a report from the printer and read aloud. "Both are wanted in connection with four murders in the DC, Pennsylvania area and both have priors for aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon and assault with intent to commit grievous bodily harm."

"These are the two men who were with Jeffries in the car park of the marina," Ziva observed.

"They were obviously sent by Jeffries to intercept Tony and Gibbs," McGee added.

"Now they're dead and DiNozzo and Gibbs are missing," Fornell said. "I'm guessing Frank Burgess won't be too happy that his boy Jeffries didn't carry out his instructions according to plan."

"Yes," Ziva agreed. "Jeffries definitely nailed the dog."

"Psst, Ziva!" Abby whispered loudly. "That's screwed the pooch!"

"Whatever," Ziva shrugged. "We now have evidence linking Jeffries with two men who tried to murder two federal agents. That's enough for a life sentence, yes?"

"Yes!" they all agreed.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The cell phone was answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Agent Jeffries, this is Lieutenant Mitchell of the Coast Guard, we met earlier this morning."

"Yes, Lieutenant," Jeffries replied. "Is there any news on Jethro and Tony?"

"Yes, Sir, we've just had word that the bodies found in the burnt out boat were not Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo," the Lieutenant advised.

"That's great news, Lieutenant, the boys and I are very relieved," Jeffries lied convincingly. "What happens now?"

"Well, there's reason to suspect that they may still be in the water. In the next hour of so, the search will be called off for the night. The Navy is sending additional men and boats to join the search at first light tomorrow."

"Same search area?" Jeffries asked.

"Yes, sir, maybe an additional 10 mile diameter to be sure," the Lieutenant advised.

"Thanks for letting me know, Lieutenant," Jeffries said before disconnecting the call and turning to face Frank Burgess.

"Gibbs and DiNozzo weren't on the boat, Sir," he said. "Must have been our men."

"You mean your men, don't you Jeffries?" Burgess hissed.

"Yes, Sir, my men," Jeffries corrected. "Coast Guard and Navy believe they may still be in the water and are stepping up the rescue at first light. I believe they are looking 30 miles in the wrong direction, Sir."

"Then we come back at first light, Jeffries," Burgess ordered. "I want them found and I want them eliminated."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs blinked his eyes and took a few deep breaths to shake off the intermittent double vision that had troubled him since he regained consciousness on the boat. He had been scouting the island for the last two hours and hadn't found any sign of fresh water. His throat was parched and his lips dry. Although the light was starting to fade, he pushed a little further into the dense vegetation in the hope of finding a source of fresh water. He and Tony both needed water soon and now that Tony had developed a fever, he would dehydrate much faster.

He was a little more fortunate in his search for food, locating a few Beech trees, bearing lots of beechnuts. He also located sea grapes, and a few cocoplums, small edible fruit that had a small amount of juice but nowhere near the amount of liquid they needed.

He was about to head back to Tony when he saw a cluster of palm trees. Gibbs exhaled in relief as he saw six young, green coconuts clinging to the top of each of the trees. He knew from his Marine survival training, that without water, the juice from the young coconuts was a fair substitute as they are rich in potassium and other minerals. The flesh of a young coconut is a yoghurt-like substance and is very palatable.

Kicking off his shoes, Gibbs flexed his legs on each side of the tree with the soles of his feet applied flat against the trunk. Placing one hand up and behind the tree and the other hand at chest level on the front side of the tree, Gibbs applied pressure from both sides pushing his body up while thrusting up with his legs by extending them. He continued this frog-like method until he reached the top of the 20-foot tree and using Tony's knife, he cut the coconuts and let them drop to the ground.

He climbed a little way down the tree before dropping to the sand below and battling new waves of nausea and the protest from his bad knee. Gathering the coconuts and the other food items, he headed back to the hill, hoping that Tony had heeded his instruction to stay put.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Jenny Shepard re-joined the others in the lab.

"The search has been called off for this evening," she said. "It's too dark to see anyone in the water. SecNav has reinforcements on the way. They will begin searching again at 0530 and will expand the search area by a 10 mile diameter."

"What are the chances of Gibbs and Tony being alive after two nights at sea?" McGee asked.

"Slim," Jenny said. "But, it has happened before."

"Yes, yes it has," Ducky added. "In fact, I remember when I was crossing the Irish Sea, my boat was swamped by…"

"Ducky!" Jenny interrupted. "Perhaps another time?"

"Of course Director," Doctor replied. "What I was trying to say is that Jethro and Anthony are extremely resourceful. If anyone can survive out there, they can."

"I agree," Fornell said. "Gibbs is a tough sonofabitch, he'll get them to dry land if he has to part the sea to do it!"

Ziva tilted her head at Jenny's concerned expression.

"Director?" she asked. "Is there something else?"

Jenny sighed. "I'm afraid so," she replied. "SecNav has advised that he can only provide additional manpower for one more day. If we haven't found them by sunset tomorrow, Gibbs and Tony will be listed as "missing, presumed dead" and the search will be dramatically scaled down."

The group stood quietly for a moment before Jenny continued.

"There's nothing we can do until morning," she said. "We have rooms booked at the local motel. Get some rest. We'll meet back here at 0500."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs needn't have worried that Tony would defy his instruction and leave their "camp site" near the signal fire. He arrived back with the food, to find Tony lying at the base of the same tree in the grip of a fever.

"Ah, damn!" Gibbs cursed softly as he placed the food on the ground and crouched by Tony's side. His breathing had become more erratic, coming in short sharp puffs that too frequently erupted into deep chesty coughs. He placed his palm on Tony's forehead again and noticed how Tony sought comfort in the coolness of his hand. He was sure his temperature had risen. He needed fluids quickly.

Using Tony's knife, Gibbs hurriedly cut a hole at the top of one of the coconuts, relieved to see that it contained at least a cup of juice. He tried to rouse Tony from his semiconscious state.

"Tony?" Gibbs said, gently tapping his cheek. "Come on, DiNozzo wake up. You need to drink something. Tony!"

Tony started to stir, moaning irritably and trying to swat Gibbs' hand away so he could go back to sleep.

"No, Tony, don't sleep yet," Gibbs instructed. "Drink first, then you can sleep, okay?"

Tony's right eye fluttered open slightly, the left was still tightly swollen shut.

"Boss?" Tony croaked, his voice catching at the back of his throat and causing another coughing fit.

"Slowly, take small sips," Gibbs told him.

Gibbs slipped his hand under Tony's head and lifted it so he could drink from the coconut. Tony drank a little before spluttering and coughing again.

Quickly deducing that laying flat on his back wasn't helping matters, Gibbs tried to help Tony sit up. He carefully lifted Tony's shoulders and sat beside him, so Tony could lean against him and hold himself upright. Tony was practically boneless and his head lolled from side to side. This time though, he drank the remainder of the coconut juice without problem.

"Atta boy," Gibbs praised softly. "You want more?"

Tony shook his head no, before it dropped back against Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs could feel the heat radiating from Tony's body. The perspiration on his exposed skin had caused a layer of sand to adhere to his arms and long legs.

No amount of coaxing could get Tony to eat. He refused the fruit and the nuts, mumbling and growling irritably at Gibbs before sleeping again. Gibbs helped him lay back gently and attended to the signal fire. He reasoned that any search vessels would have been recalled at sunset so he let the signal fire burn down but not out.

Having seen to Tony's needs, Gibbs ate some of the cocoplums and sea grapes and drank from two of the coconuts before finally succumbing to his own fatigue and falling into a fitful sleep.

Tony's harsh coughing and loud moans dragged him from his sleep a few hours later. His fever had peaked and despite the heat from his body, he trembled and shivered violently. Gibbs managed to get him to drink more juice and he used Tony's knife to fashion a spoon out of a small piece of wood. He used the spoon to access the yoghurt-like flesh of the young coconuts.

In his fevered state, Gibbs doubted that the younger man would even remember being spoon-fed the yoghurt. He grinned at the sight of Tony, eyes closed, opening his mouth automatically to allow each spoonful and trusting Gibbs implicitly. The pull of the fever and exhaustion started to overwhelm him and Gibbs held the last spoonful of yoghurt at Tony's closed lips.

"Come on, DiNozzo, one more," Gibbs coaxed. "You make me play aeroplanes and I'll kick your ass."

Tony managed the final mouthful and sleep took him again shortly afterwards. After stoking the fire a little more, Gibbs took the opportunity to get some rest himself.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The sun was just starting to make an appearance when Gibbs opened his eyes. He looked over at Tony, surprised to see him awake and sitting listlessly with his back against the tree.

Every sinew and muscle in Gibbs' body screamed in protest as he got to his feet and walked towards the younger man. He felt his stomach muscles contract as he read the body language and facial expression of his senior field agent.

"Hey, Boss," Tony said quietly, his voice raw and raspy from the harsh coughing.

"How are you feeling?" Gibbs said, placing his hand on Tony's forehead. It was still too warm for his liking but he was relieved that his fever had broken during the night.

"Chest hurts and… my shoulder's killing me," Tony croaked, each breath wheezing audibly.

Gibbs was mildly surprised that Tony had answered so honestly, usually he downplayed any injury or illness.

'_This is not good._' He thought.

After stoking up the signal fire and watching the thick black smoke snake into the sky, Gibbs sat beside Tony and cracked open another two coconuts. He handed one to Tony with a succinct "Drink."

Tony looked at the gathering of fruit, nuts and coconuts and shook his head in awe.

"How do you know… about this stuff, Boss?" he gasped. "You could give... Webelos McGee a few pointers ...on how to win his... Food Fossicking Merit Badge."

Gibbs lips quirked in a quick grin as he answered, "I'm a marine, DiNozzo. We're trained to adapt to any situation."

He handed Tony a cocoplum. "Eat."

Tony screwed up his face at the strong sweet taste.

"Don't suppose you got any bananas, Boss?"

Gibbs gave him an exasperated glare.

"Well gee, DiNozzo, I'm sorry but the store was all out of bananas!" he said dryly.

Tony grimaced. "Sorry, Boss."

He looked around at the ocean below.

"You know," Tony said. "This kinda reminds me… of Gilligan's Island."

"Who's Gilligan?" Gibbs asked, watching Tony's mouth drop open in surprise.

"Come on, Boss! Gilligan!" Tony answered. "Three hour tour…unchartered desert isle…Skipper, the Professor…Maryanne and Ginger? You'd like Ginger, Boss, …she's a redhead … and she's hot!"

Gibbs watched the younger man trying too hard to pretend that he was fine and all was well. Gibbs listened to the light-hearted words, but the furrowed brow and the tense body language spoke louder and he instinctively knew that his agent had more on his mind than a 70's sitcom. They sat quietly for a moment until Gibbs spoke.

"You got something you want to tell me, DiNozzo?"

Tony immediately turned his head away from Gibbs' unwavering gaze. He swallowed several times but couldn't find his voice. He had wanted to wait until they'd been rescued but should have known the ex-Gunny would read him like a book.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs said softy. "You taking the job?"

Tony closed his eyes and breathed deeply to suppress another coughing fit. Then he raised his head to meet Gibbs' gaze.

"I'm sorry, Boss," he said "I'll be tendering my resignation when we get back."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional.**

**Chapter Twelve**

At Director Shepard's request, SecNav sent a specialist Navy Commander to oversee the Search and Rescue operation. With the Coast Guard Commander at his side, they joined their men at 0500 for a briefing and to assign search areas and discuss the best search pattens.

The Search and Rescue party had been increased since yesterday with four more Rigid Inflatable Boats (RIBs) and their Navy Seal crews joining the ranks to search for the missing men.

Jenny Shepard attended the briefing with her team and FBI Senior Agent Tobias Fornell. They listened attentively as the Commanders instructed their men that the diameter of the search area had been increased by 10 nautical miles. Unbeknown to them, the search area was still at least 30 miles from Tony and Gibbs' actual location.

As the missing men might have been in the water for up to 28 hours, each craft was given a comprehensive first aid kit and thermal blankets. Solemnly, Coast Guard Commander Nelson advised that the operation could become body recovery rather than rescue and reminded all teams to report anything that could be related to the missing men.

Each team received their charts and coordinates and headed down to the docks to begin the search.

Leaving their Forensic and Medical personnel at Coast Guard HQ, Ziva and McGee and Jenny and Fornell joined two of the Navy Seal crews to participate in the search.

As they watched the boats head out to their designated search areas, Ducky placed a comforting arm around Abby's shoulders.

"They have to find them, Ducky," Abby said sadly. "They just have to."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Crime Boss, Frank Burgess, stood on the deck of his luxury boat with ex-FBI Agent Robert Jeffries and three other unknown men at his side. They examined a chart of the coastline and waters north of the Wineglass Bay area, smugly noting that the official search area was at least 30 nautical miles to the south of their location.

The area had eight small uninhabitable islands and they had searched four of them yesterday for any sign of DiNozzo and Gibbs. Jeffries circled a small group of islands on the map.

"Using the coordinates from where the rendezvous was to take place, these are the only islands they could have reached," Jeffries said. "Even so, there's no guarantee that they would have made it to shore."

"The only guarantee I want from you, Jeffries, is the guarantee that you will find them! Find them alive or find their bodies - just find them!!" Burgess hissed.

"Yes, Sir," Jeffries continued pointing to the chart. "We searched these islands and this area yesterday. That leaves these four here."

"Maybe we need to get more of people out here to help us look?" a tall redheaded man said.

"No!" Jeffries answered. "The more boats we have in the water, the more attention we attract from the Coast Guard or Navy." He looked at Burgess. "Believe me, Sir, we need to keep this very low key. NCIS and my old boss from the FBI are participating in the search. If they see you or me, they'll piece this thing together and they'll know we were involved in the disappearance of their men."

Burgess looked thoughtful for a moment. "I agree," he said. "We search these islands ourselves and if we find Gibbs and DiNozzo alive, we kill them. I will tolerate no more mistakes and no more delays."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The instant Gibbs set eyes on Tony this morning he knew the younger agent had made his decision. His body language and the look of guilt on his pale face was all it took for Gibbs to know that Tony had decided to leave NCIS.

"You sure this is what you want?" Gibbs asked him.

"I'm sure, Boss," Tony answered, his eyes downcast.

"You're taking the position at Georgetown?"

Tony nodded in reply.

"When I wanted you to get away from DC to think about your decision, this isn't exactly what I had in mind," Gibbs said.

Tony smiled a little. "I know, Boss, and that's part of the reason I have to leave."

Gibbs' brow creased in a frown. "I don't understand."

"I've been in law enforcement for nearly 15 years, Boss. Being a cop and helping people is all I ever wanted to do with my life. The line separating right from wrong was _so clear_ to me back then."

He hung his head as he shamefully admitted. "Now when I go home at night, I can't remember why I do what I do. Too many people - good, innocent people get hurt or killed while the people responsible hire expensive lawyers and get off on technicalities."

Gibbs remained silent, his face impassive as he allowed Tony to vent his frustrations.

"Not that long ago, the cops chased the bad guys and now it's the other way around! It's backwards!!" Tony exclaimed angrily. "Burgess' people will stop at nothing to get me, Boss. Last night on the boat proved that they don't care where I am or who I'm with."

He paused for a moment as another coughing fit took his breath away.

"I'm so tired of seeing people I care about get hurt or killed…my partner in Baltimore, Kate, Paula, …maybe you if Burgess finds us first. I can't go through that again, Boss!"

Gibbs tilted his head. "I told you before - someone comes after you, then they come after us. You're my senior field agent and I've got your six," Gibbs said gently. "Your partner, Kate and Paula all died nobly serving their country - doing something they believed in."

Tony lifted his head and met Gibbs' intense gaze. "That's what I mean, Boss. _I_ don't believe in this anymore. The line between right and wrong is a blur to me now. No matter what I do, it doesn't make a difference."

Gibbs allowed that statement to hang in the air before he asked.

"And the Georgetown job?"

Tony shrugged. "It's nine to five, steady, no-one trying to shoot, stab, kill or infect me with a deadly virus."

"Until they get to know you," Gibbs quipped.

"There's Spring break!!" Tony said wriggling his eyebrows and wincing as the movement aggravated his swollen left eye.

"You're too old for spring break, DiNozzo," Gibbs remarked. "Even if you can still bong a beer in under six seconds!"

Tony sighed. "The kids in these Criminology courses are the Judges, Lawyers and law enforcement officers of tomorrow, Boss, maybe I can make a difference with them."

Gibbs clasped his hand firmly on Tony's good shoulder and looked him directly in the eye.

"I'm sure you will, Tony," he said sincerely.

Gibbs' endorsement was almost Tony's undoing and he swallowed hard to rid his throat of the huge lump that had situated there.

"I can still come around to your house from time to time, right?" Tony said. "Catch a game on TV? Maybe help you build a new boat?"

"Damn straight you'll help build it!" Gibbs said giving Tony a swift clip to the back of his head and allowing his hand to cup the back of Tony's neck. "You _owe_ me a new boat!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Coast Guard Commander Colin Nelson entered the large room where Abby had set up her temporary lab. Ducky and Palmer sat with Abby, waiting for any news of the missing men.

"Commander?" Ducky said. "Is there any news on Agents Gibbs or DiNozzo?"

"Not yet, Doctor, I'm sorry," the Commander replied. "However, we have received a report on another missing boat. It's probably not related to your agents in any way but I gave Director Shepard my word to keep NCIS fully apprised of all activity in this area."

"You said there was another missing boat?" Palmer asked.

"Yes, the Marina at Hudson Beach has reported that two men hired a boat yesterday afternoon. They were supposed to have returned it this morning but they never came back. They're four hours overdue," the Commander explained. "Unfortunately, we're going to have to divert about half of our search party to towards Hudson Beach to look for these two men."

"But you can't!" Abby sobbed. "We need all the help we can get to search for Tony and Gibbs! You can't take them away!"

"Abigail, listen to me," Ducky said holding Abby gently by the shoulders. "It has to be done. These men might also be in serious trouble. What do you think Jethro and Tony would want us to do?"

Abby nodded her head sullenly as two large tears spilled from her eyes.

"Do what you must, Commander," Ducky said. "We'll inform the Director."

"Thank you, Doctor - this is extraordinary. We haven't had trouble like this in months and then, all of a sudden we have two missing boats in two days. It's quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

Abby, Ducky and Palmer's heads snapped up at the Commander's last comment. Their eyes widened with sudden realisation and they replied simultaneously.

"We don't believe in coincidences!!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony still had a slight fever and his coughing fits were harsh, wet and chesty. After arguing themselves to a standstill, Gibbs relented and allowed Tony to accompany him back down the hill to gather enough fruit and coconuts for the day and coming night.

Not that Tony could really help much, with his shoulder incapacitated but he repeatedly told Gibbs, he was not crippled and he could do his share. His broken collarbone jolted with every step, but Tony thought it was almost worth it, to see Gibbs scale that palm tree like he'd been doing it all of his life.

"You know, Boss," Tony wheezed. "When we get back, you should consider going on 'Survivor'. You'd be a lock for the million bucks and you could _buy_ a new boat!"

The trip down the hill had been a lot easier than the trip back up, which left Tony exhausted, coughing violently and gasping for breath. He desperately tried to avoid the "I told you so" look in Gibbs' eyes.

Not knowing how long they were likely to be on the island, Gibbs and Tony had started to gather some larger branches and some vines to fashion a shelter. They had been lucky last night that the weather had been dry and warm but clouds had started to gather ominously and the chance of rain later in the day was high. The last thing Tony needed now was to get soaked in the rain so building a shelter became their priority.

As Gibbs re-stoked the signal fire he watched Tony sitting in the shade, stripping the leaves off the vines they had collected. They had grown close during their seven-year partnership and although he knew that Tony would, one day, lead his own team, he couldn't imagine not having him as part of his team. He wished he'd had Ducky's eloquence or Abby's openness to enable him to find the words Tony needed to hear to make him stay.

He cursed inwardly thinking about their day on the boat. He had really enjoyed teaching Tony to sail and had hoped that it was something they could do together in the future when time allowed. He remembered Tony's relaxed posture and the smile that beamed back at him as he watched the dolphins play in the bow wave. Gibbs hadn't seen him that relaxed in months.

That had been the first step in Gibbs' plan to cut through the darkness and disillusion that had permeated into Tony's mind since the disastrous undercover operation. Then, he'd hoped to dissuade Tony from accepting the position at Georgetown Uni. That plan went out the window the minute Burgess' men stepped onto his boat.

When Gibbs looked back at Tony he saw that exhaustion had claimed him again and he had fallen asleep. The contrast from 24 hours ago was stark. His chest still heaved from the exertion of climbing a hill over twenty minutes ago. The frequent and rough coughing suggested that he was unable to expel all of the saltwater from his weakened lungs. His left eye was swollen shut; the dark bruises vivid on his too pale face. He hugged his arm close to his body to prevent unnecessary and painful movement of his collarbone and his face shined with the sheen of perspiration from his fever.

Gibbs closed his own eyes and felt the rage surge through his veins at the thought of the circumstances that had conspired to rob him of his senior field agent… of Tony. Then, he thought of the countless times Tony had been seriously wounded or injured in the line of duty. The younger man had a propensity for putting his body on the line to save a colleague or an innocent victim and as a consequence he had racked up twice as much medical leave as any other NCIS agent. Gibbs opened his eyes and looked at the sleeping man.

'_Maybe you're right, Tony!_' he thought. '_Maybe enough __**is**__ enough. If you have to go, I'd rather it be of your own volition than in a body bag_. '

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—

Using their satellite phones Abby contacted McGee and Ziva, who were participating in the search aboard one of the Navy Seals RIBs and Ducky called the Director and Fornell, who were with another Seals crew.

They agreed that the development of the other missing boat definitely warranted further investigation and they headed back to the Coast Guard HQ immediately.

As they still hadn't determined how Burgess' men came to be on Gibbs' boat, Abby printed photos of Edward Allen Daley and William Henry Bollard and emailed them to the Ship Chandler at Hudson Beach Marina.

By the time Jenny, Fornell, Ziva and a rather green looking McGee had returned, the Ship Chandler had identified the men in the photos as the two missing men who had hired the boat and not returned.

Further phone discussion with Ziva revealed that the men had paid cash for the boat, the names and addresses they had provided were false and the non-descript green Ford they left in the parking lot matched the plates of the stolen car they had been driving when they met with Jeffries at the Gateway Marina.

They were discussing their findings when Commander Nelson stepped back into the room with a chart in his hand. He spread the chart out on the nearest table and beckoned for the team to join him.

"One of our vessels I sent to Hudson Beach to begin the search, has found a large oil slick that they believed may be coming from the engines of a boat. Using their sonar and underwater camera equipment, they were able to determine that the boat matches the craft missing from Hudson Bay Marina."

He looked at McGee. "Do you have a copy of the course your agents logged?"

"Yes," McGee walked to the other side of the room and returned with his own chart.

The Commander grimaced. "That's what I thought," he said. "If your people stayed true to the course they'd logged…."

"They certainly would have!" Ducky interrupted.

"Then taking into account their average speed and the flow of the current yesterday, they would have been in the vicinity of this boat at around 1700 last night." The Commander said.

"So, they made contact with Gibbs and Tony – maybe a distress signal – and that is how they got on Gibbs' boat!" Ziva surmised.

"If Gibbs and Tony had made it to this point before they were contacted by these men, then we have a whole new point of origin," Abby said pointing towards the navigational charts.

McGee caught on and added. "So if we use the new point of origin and take last nights tidal and current details into account, we should be able to work backwards and determine from where the 'Kelly" drifted."

The Commander rubbed his jaw in thought. "It's not an exact science but it would mean we've been looking about 40 nautical miles south of where we should be."

The door to the temporary lab opened again as Coast Guard Lieutenant Mitchell walked in.

"Excuse me, Agent Fornell?" he said. "I'm sorry to interrupt sir, but I've been trying to call your colleagues and can't seem to reach them."

Fornell looked confused. "My colleagues?"

"Yes, Sir, I met them yesterday during the search for your missing agents. They wanted to enter the search area and join the search," the Lieutenant explained, "but when I explained that they couldn't they started their own search and asked me to keep them apprised."

"Who?" Fornell snapped.

"He gave me his card, Sir," he said handing it to Fornell.

Fornell seethed with rage as he looked up from the card and almost spat the name.

"Agent Robert Jeffries."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo---oo00oo--

"Hand me those binoculars," Jeffries said to his large redheaded associate.

Bringing the binoculars to his eyes and focusing them, he smiled maliciously.

"Bring the boat about," he said. "That's a signal fire. Looks like we've found our missing agents!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**A/N:- I had intended for this to be the final chapter in this story but there was so much to get through I had to make it two chapters. So please hang in there with me for one more night and I'll finish the story next chapter.**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional. **

**Chapter Thirteen**

Coast Guard Lieutenant Mitchell squirmed a little under the intense glare of FBI Senior Agent Tobias Fornell.

"I can assure you, Agent Fornell, the man had an authentic FBI badge and ID," he defended. "I had no reason to believe that his motives were not genuine."

Jenny stepped forward, placing her hand on Fornell's bicep.

"He's right, Tobias," she said. "There's no way he could have known that Jeffries was no longer working for the FBI."

Fornell stalked furiously to the other side of the room and slammed his fist on the table with so much force that everyone in the room flinched.

Jenny turned her attention to the Lieutenant.

"Is there anything else you can tell us Lieutenant?" Jenny asked. "How many men were with him or what kind of boat he was on?"

The Lieutenant's eyes flicked nervously at Fornell before he answered.

"There were at least three men with Jeffries but there may have been more below deck. It was a large boat," he said.

McGee looked up from where he had been furiously typing commands into his laptop.

"Jeffries cell is switched off," he advised. "He has probably disabled the GPS device. He'd know that we'd try to trace his phone. I'll check his call logs and see if I can locate where his last call was made from."

"The boat was a Sun Ray 355," the Lieutenant said. "Big, fast and luxurious. It was towing a smaller runabout, presumably to transport passengers from the boat to the shore." He forced his eyes closed, trying to remember more. "I know I saw the name of the boat but I just can't remember."

"If we know the name of the boat, we can trace the GPS tracking device on the boat. We might get really lucky and find that they haven't dismantled it," Abby offered hopefully.

The Lieutenant shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just can't remember."

"Got it!" McGee said. "The last call Jeffries received was last evening from…."

McGee's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Lieutenant Matt Mitchell??"

All eyes turned to Lieutenant Mitchell and Fornell took an intimidating step towards him.

"I've already told you that!" the Lieutenant stressed. "I called him to let him know that the bodies were not the missing agents and to advise that the search area would be expanded by 10 nautical miles. I thought he was a legitimate FBI Agent!!"

"It's okay Lieutenant. We believe you," Jenny assured him.

"The number Jeffries gave you is actually a satellite phones" McGee explained. "I was able to back trace the location of the phone when the call was received." McGee got to his feet and walked to the navigation chart, still spread out on the desk. "According to the coordinates, when Jeffries received that call, he was….here!"

Commander Nelson looked at the chart where McGee was pointing.

"There's about eight or nine small uninhabited islands up there," he said. "They could be on any one of them. I'll arrange a helicopter to pinpoint which island they're on, but we'll have to go in by boat – there's no way a chopper could land on any of those islands."

"Ziva, McGee! Gear up and be ready to leave with the Seals immediately," Jenny said.

"I'm going too!" Fornell said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Jeffries was my Agent. He's is going down hard and I'm gonna take him down."

Jenny nodded her head in agreement.

"Starburst Two!!" the Lieutenant suddenly shouted. "That was the name of the boat. Starburst Two!!"

"I'm on it!" Abby said logging on to her computer.

Jenny turned to Ziva, McGee and Fornell.

"Go now," she said. "We'll call you on the Sat phone and let you know the results of the trace. Good luck!"

Abby stopped typing for a moment and called after them. "McGee!!"

McGee turned and looked at her. "I know Abs," he said. "We'll bring them home."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs let Tony sleep while he continued to gather branches to make into a shelter.

He stood back to view what he had collected and realised that none of it would be very weatherproof roof. He glanced worriedly at the dark clouds threatening rain and grimaced as he listened to Tony coughing harshly in his sleep.

He walked to the north side of the hill, overlooking the beach. The large flat piece of wood that Tony and he had used as a makeshift raft, was still lying where they had left it and would make an ideal roof for their shelter.

Gibbs checked that the signal fire was still burning strongly. Tony was sleeping fitfully, his skin slicked with perspiration. Gibbs could see no reason to wake him. He left another note in the sand. "Gone to the beach – back soon. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!". Then, he headed down the steep incline towards the beach.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva and McGee were aboard a Navy RIB and hanging on for dear life as the Seals team, reduced to four men to accommodate their passengers, released the throttle of the nine hundred horse power engines and guided the craft towards the group of islands where they believed Tony and Gibbs to be.

If the circumstances had not been so dire, Ziva would have been having the time of her life. As a Special Forces vessel, the RIBs were designed specifically to speed through open water and go off shore, constantly getting airborne and jumping waves, at speeds of up to 50 knots. Ziva glanced sideways at McGee and could barely contain her laughter as McGee's eyes bulged from his head and he looked decidedly green and bilious. She guessed that he had forgotten to take his seasickness meds again.

To the right of their vessel, another Navy RIB kept pace with them. Fornell and a Seals team of five men were aboard. At their current speed, they would reach the island in 25 minutes.

Abby attempted to locate the exact position of the Starburst Two by tracing the GPS tracking device. However her efforts were thwarted as the device had been switched off. Arrangements were then made for a Navy Sea Hawk to fly to the islands.

As each of the islands was small and densely wooded, the Sea Hawks could not land. Therefore their assignment was to get a visual of the Starburst Two and communicate the exact coordinates to the Seals who were charged with securing Burgess and his men and rescuing the missing agents.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The Starburst Two cut her engines and dropped anchor 100 meters off shore of the small island. Looking across the beach the passengers aboard the boat could see no sign of life other than a large signal fire that was well alight and sending dark black smoke into the air.

Leaving one man onboard, Jeffries, Burgess and two large thugs climbed aboard the small runabout and headed for the beach. Gibbs was almost at the beach when he heard the sound of the outboard motor. Breathing a sigh of relief, he ran through the trees and foliage towards the beach to greet their rescuers. An undeniable feeling in his gut pulled him up short just before he broke cover and he peered through the trees and scrub to see four men in a small boat, heading to shore. Squinting into the sun, he recognised Jeffries and Burgess and he drew his weapon from his belt.

"Damn it!" he cursed aloud. Gibbs assessed his options. He could try to lead them away from the hill and Tony, or he could go back up the hill, get Tony and take him further into the densely forested area on the other side of the island.

In Gibbs' mind, there _was_ no option. Tony was sick, injured and unarmed and Gibbs did not leave his men behind. Running as fast as he could, he headed back towards the hill to Tony.

He had just started up the hill when he spotted Tony coming down. For a fleeting second Gibbs admired the younger man's ability to know what was happening around him – even when asleep, sick or injured. Tony laboured towards him, his left hand pressed against his broken collarbone as he tried to lessen the jolting pain of each step. He stumbled forward and Gibbs moved quickly to stop him from falling.

"Boss…!" he gasped unable to finish the sentence.

"I know, Tony," Gibbs said. "It's Burgess."

Tony's face became paler than it already was.

"There are four of them," Gibbs said. "Think you can make it to the other side of the island? There's more cover."

Tony nodded his head and they set off for a heavily wooded section of the island just as Burgess and his men dragged their runabout up onto the sand.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Jenny, Ducky, Abby and Palmer joined Commander Nelson in the control room of the Coast Guard HQ. They listened to the radio transmissions between the Sea Hawk helicopter, which was still en route to the island and the Navy Seals. The Seals advised that they were approximately 10 minutes away.

Palmer's watery eyes and pained expression was in direct correlation to the death grip Abby had applied to his hand and he couldn't help but wonder whether he would ever regain full use of it.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Burgess' two thugs were ordered to check the top of the hill. They found no one but doused the signal fire in an attempt to avoid detection.

The sandy ground left highly visible tracks which were easily found and followed by the four men until they reached the heavily wooded section of the island where the foliage and ground cover made tracking very difficult for inexperienced trackers.

As they were about to enter the wooded area, a Navy Sea Hawk helicopter flew over just above tree level. Burgess knew that there was no getting away this time, but he would not give up easily and he would make damn sure that DiNozzo was dead first.

Burgess barked orders for the men to split up, and surround the agents. Keeping their distance from one another to cover as much ground as possible, they entered the woods.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The Sea Hawk pilot saw the remains of the signal fire still smouldering as he flew in low over the island. Radioing the coordinates to the Seals he also reported a visual on the Sunburst Two.

The Navy RIBs roared into view and using an onboard load speaker, ordered anyone on the Starburst Two to throw down their weapons and prepare to be boarded. They met no resistance from the only remaining crewmember and handcuffed him to the cabin door. Fornell joined Ziva and McGee in their RIB and headed towards the beach while the other RIB circled to approach from the south side of the island.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony was just about out on his feet. Gibbs had draped his good arm around his shoulders and held him tightly around the waist to prevent him from falling as they ran further into the woods.

The shift of Tony's weight nearly pitched them both to the ground as his legs buckled from under him. Taking Tony's full weight, Gibbs looked around for any sign of their pursuers. When he was satisfied they were alone, he lowered Tony to the ground.

"Boss….I….can't….can't breathe!" Tony gasped, his eyes wide and chest heaving convulsively in his struggle to get air to his lungs.

Gibbs rolled Tony onto his back and lifted his knees to his chest to ease the pressure on his diaphragm. "Easy Tony," he said. "Take slow breaths, slow and easy."

The dark spots that appeared in Tony's vision confirmed that he was not getting enough oxygen. As he opened his mouth to tell Gibbs, a loud harsh cough ripped painfully through his chest. He placed both hands over his mouth to avoid giving away their location and attempted to breathe through his nose.

Gibbs felt for Tony's pulse. It was racing and he was soaked in sweat. Gibbs knew Tony couldn't continue. He grabbed him under the arms and dragged him behind a fallen log, flinching as Tony groaned in pain from the movement. Grabbing some branches and leaves he covered Tony's body, noting that the younger man was still struggling for breath. He placed his hands either side of Tony's face to ensure he had his full attention.

"Tony," Gibbs said. "You've got to be quiet. I'm going to lead them away from here and then circle back for you. Do you understand? Rest up and catch your breath. I'm coming back for you!"

Tony's green eyes looked back at Gibbs with a mixture of trepidation and fear. But it was the complete and unquestionable trust he saw in Tony's eyes that ripped at the ex-Gunny's heart. Giving him a gentle tap on the cheek, Gibbs ensured Tony was well hidden and ran further into the woods.

Gibbs stopped in his tracks as a large redheaded man appeared on the track in front of him. Ducking low and running hard he was able to avoid the two rounds fired in his direction. The redhead lumbered after him. He walked cautiously into a small clearing his eyes flicking from side to side looking for Gibbs.

"Looking for me?" came Gibbs' voice from behind him.

The large man turned quickly, firing blindly in Gibbs' direction but received a double tap to his heart for his trouble.

"_One down, three to go!_" Gibbs thought to himself.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ex-FBI Agent Robert Jeffries wasn't going to die fulfilling a vendetta for Frank Burgess. He figured he'd worked too hard to get to this point and wasn't prepared to go out in a blaze of gunfire. Not when he had over half a million dollars stashed in a bank account.

Surrender was also out of the question. As a Federal Agent, he knew the kind of treatment he would receive in prison.

He had a back up plan. He had already prepared false passport and travel documents and planned to leave the country as soon as possible. Leaving the wooded area, he doubled back to the beach, with the intention of taking the runabout back to the mainland.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The Navy RIB launched from the water and beached itself on the sand. Weapons drawn, the three Seals, McGee, Ziva and Fornell separated into two teams and spread out to search the island.

The Sea Hawk was still flying low overhead and reported a visual of two men being chased into the wooded area on the south side of the island. As shots rang out from the woods and the Agents and Seals quickly ran in that direction.

Using a loudspeaker system, the Sea Hawk announced that the island had been surrounded by the US Navy and ordered all weapons to be surrendered.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Senior FBI Agent Tobias Fornell knew Robert Jeffries better than anyone. Hell, he'd taught him everything he knew. Jeffries had been Fornell's second in command. Which is why Jeffries' betrayal hit him so hard.

It was bad enough that Jeffries had aligned himself with a crime boss like Burgess but he had also been instrumental in the death of a colleague, FBI Agent Paul Monroe and jeopardised the lives of two NCIS Agents. Tobias Fornell was going to make damn sure that Jeffries paid.

He had been following Ziva and McGee when the two gunshots were heard from the other side of the island. As the Agents ran towards the gunfire, a nagging feeling made Fornell turn back towards the beach.

He heard the unmistakable roar of the RIB engine being started and saw Jeffries aboard. Fornell's heart pounded as he heard the RIBs engines stall and cursed that he was too far away for his handgun to be of any use.

As he raced to the runabout he knew that once Jeffries got the RIBs engines started, it was all over. He jumped into the runabout, kicking the diving equipment out of his way. He started the outboard with one powerful pull of the starter rope and steered the small craft in the direction of the RIB just as it powerful engines came to life.

By the time Jeffries had familiarised himself with the RIB, Fornell was only 50 feet behind him. Fornell took careful aim and fired three rounds into the powerful engines of the RIB. The engines exploded on impact and the RIB flipped over, casting Jeffries into the ocean.

Fornell guided the runabout alongside Jeffries, who appeared dazed and struggled to stay afloat.

"Get in the boat you piece of crap," he snarled.

Jeffries swam to the runabout and placed both hands on the side ready to pull himself aboard. With his full weight, he pulled the hull of the small boat causing it to lurch suddenly and Fornell to lose his balance. Jeffries produced a gun from his ankle holster and shot Fornell in the shoulder.

Fornell lay bleeding and dazed in the back of the runabout as Jeffries climbed aboard, gun in hand.

"I didn't want it to come to this Tobias," Jeffries said, "but now it's just me and you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Fornell said.

The Navy Sea Hawk swooped down towards the runabout attracting Jeffries attention. In one motion, Fornell lifted, aimed and fired a spear gun that had been among the diving equipment in the boat. The spear struck Jeffries in the chest with enough force to puncture his lungs and his heart. He remained standing for several seconds, before he died. The colour immediately drained from his face leaving a ghostly expression of pain and shock.

"Don't look so surprised you son of a bitch," Fornell said. "You had that coming."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo---oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Disclaimer:- I do not own NCIS or its characters. Any copyright infringement is unintentional. **

**Chapter Fourteen**

Ziva and McGee ran at a crouch in the direction of the gunshots. Through their earwigs, they had just heard the Navy Seals report that they had disarmed and secured a man claiming to work for Frank Burgess.

In the distance they saw the body of a man lying on the ground and not moving. As they moved closer, their Sigs scanning the surrounding area they realised with great relief that the body was too large for either Tony or Gibbs. They rolled the large redheaded man onto his back and noticed he had been lying in a large pool of his own blood, two neat holes in the shirt over his heart.

"You think Tony or Gibbs shot him?" McGee asked.

"Gibbs," Ziva said confidently.

McGee frowned. "How do you know it wasn't Tony?"

"Tony is an excellent marksman, McGee, but look at this grouping," Ziva explained. "The bullet holes are less than an inch apart. This was Gibbs."

Ziva studied the ground around the body while McGee used his com-link to report finding the body.

"He went this way," Ziva said pointing further into the woods.

"Wait!" McGee said. "He? Not they?"

Ziva studied the ground again. "No just one man," she said. They exchanged a worried glance before continuing down the trail.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Gibbs ran further into the woods, deliberately leaving an obvious trail for his pursuers. He guessed that Burgess and his men wouldn't have had much tracking experience and he needed to lead them away from where he had left Tony.

He had heard the sound of staccato gunfire and the announcement from the Sea Hawk that the Navy Seals had arrived, but as far as he knew, there were still three more gunmen on the island and they were intent on killing Tony.

When he felt he had led them far enough away, he would double back for Tony and make contact with the Seals.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

McGee stopped and placed his hand to his earwig to listen to another transmission.

Fornell had been found lying wounded in a runabout just off shore and Jeffries was dead.

"That leaves two," he said hurrying to catch up to Ziva.

Ziva had stopped tracking and stood with a confused look on her face.

"This was too easy," she said.

"Easy? What do you mean?" McGee replied.

"Gibbs is a highly trained Marine, McGee. He would not leave such an obvious trail unless that was his intention," she explained. "And now, the trail has stopped. I believe Gibbs has doubled back for something….or someone!"

They allowed themselves a hopeful grin.

"Tony!" they said together.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Tony's body shook with the bone-chilling tremors of fever. His chest was tight and so congested that it allowed him to take only the shallowest of breaths before it erupted in a fit of rugged and exhausting coughs.

He reached his left hand to his right collarbone, felt the jagged ends of the bone beneath the skin and bit his bottom lip to suppress a groan as another wave of pain swept over him.

He had been concentrating on slowing his breathing and suppressing his coughing. He needed to be ready when Gibbs returned for him. Tony had been so focused that he didn't hear the Sea Hawk announce that the Navy Seals had arrived. As far as he was aware, Gibbs was alone with four armed men on his six.

The sound of nearby gunfire startled him. His thoughts were only of helping Gibbs as he agonisingly climbed out of his hiding place and on weak and unsteady legs; he headed off into the wood to find Gibbs.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

The foreboding click of a safety being released on a handgun stopped Gibbs in his tracks.

"Throw down your weapon, Agent Gibbs or I'll shoot you where you stand," Burgess snarled.

Gibbs had little choice. He dropped the weapon to the ground, ensuring he knew exactly where it landed.

Gibbs held his hands out, palms up, before placing them on his hips. Tony's knife was tucked into his waistband and he surreptitiously wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the hilt.

"Where is DiNozzo?" Burgess demanded.

"If you think I'm going to tell you that, you're a bigger idiot than I thought," Gibbs replied.

The veins in Burgess' neck distended as he fought to suppress his rage. "I'd rather put a bullet in DiNozzo's head for the trouble he's caused me but as I suspect you were the one holding his leash, you'll do just as well."

Gibbs smiled. "Look around you, Burgess. In minutes this island will be swarming in Navy Seals. If you shoot me, you'll never get off the island alive."

"As long as you or DiNozzo, die first! Preferably both of you!"

A racking, chesty cough was heard from the bushes to their right as Tony stumbled in their direction unaware of the danger. Burgess chanced a quick glance in Tony's direction.

"Tony!" Gibbs shouted in warning then, in one smooth movement, he removed the knife from his waistband and threw it at Burgess. The knife lodged deeply into Burgess' bicep and he pulled the trigger of his gun. Gibbs was thrown backwards to the ground as the bullet grazed his left temple. As his world started to darken and the pain in his head exploded, Burgess took aim at his head. Gibbs raised his chin in defiance as he waited for Burgess to pull the trigger.

In a blur of movement Gibbs saw Tony hit Burgess with all the force his weakened body could muster and they grappled for the gun. Tony yelled in pain as Burgess gripped his right shoulder, applying agonising pressure to his broken collarbone. Tony still did not release his grip on the gun.

The impact of the bullet had a kaleidoscope effect of Gibbs' vision as he desperately fought to overcome the blinding pain and nausea and reached for his gun. He turned towards the two struggling men and cursed loudly. With his vision so badly impaired he was unable to take a shot without risking hitting Tony. He was attempting to climb to his feet when two shots rang out from Burgess' gun.

Gibbs looked up quickly. His heart froze as he saw Tony's face pale in shock and pain. Both men stood inert for a moment before they both fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Gibbs tried unsuccessfully to stand but fell to the ground and crawled to where Tony lay unmoving under Burgess' body. Noting Burgess' lifeless stare, Gibbs rolled the body from Tony and gasped as he saw the large blood stain on the front of Tony's sweater.

"Tony!" Gibbs yelled. Lifting the sweater to check Tony's wound he found only smooth tanned skin. He checked again as if not trusting his own eyes and then released a huge sigh of relief - the blood had belonged to Burgess.

Still waging his own battle to remain conscious, Gibbs pulled Tony to him, heartened as he saw Tony's eyes open.

"Tony? Hey, DiNozzo, you with me?" Gibbs said softly.

"Boss?" Tony answered weakly. "You…okay?"

Gibbs grinned. "Yeah, Tony," he lied. "I'm okay."

"Boss…think I'm…gonna…pass out."

"You can't pass out DiNozzo! What about your rule?" Gibbs jibed.

"S'more of a guideline," Tony said softly as his head lolled back and the darkness claimed him.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Ziva and McGee arrived moments later and immediately called for assistance on the com-link. The forth gunman had capitulated without a struggle the moment he saw the Seals.

Retrieving two portable stretchers and the first aid kit from the RIB, the Navy Seals carried Tony and assisted Gibbs, who refused to be carried, back to the shore. Ziva and McGee climbed aboard the RIB with the injured Fornell and Gibbs, as the Seals lifted Tony's stretcher onto the vessel and headed out to meet the Sea Hawk. Once they arrived at the rendezvous point with the Sea Hawk, the agents were airlifted to Bethesda.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Jenny, Ducky, Abby and Palmer were delighted to receive the news that Gibbs and Tony had been rescued. The Coast Guard arranged to transport all their equipment back to NCIS and to fly them to Bethesda to join the rest of their team.

Upon their arrival at the hospital, they found Ziva and McGee pacing the waiting room.

"Any news?" Jenny asked.

"Fornell has a bullet wound to the shoulder," Ziva said. "A through and through. He is resting comfortably."

"And what of our boys?" Ducky asked.

"Gibbs has a bad laceration to his left temple where he was grazed by a bullet and another deep gash to the back of his head," McGee reported. "The Doctors believe he has a serious concussion and have taken him for x-rays and a CT scan."

"Hmmm. Any loss of consciousness?" Ducky asked.

"Yes," Ziva answered. "He lost consciousness twice in the helicopter."

"What about Tony?" Abby asked.

"Tony was unconscious when we found them and still hasn't regained consciousness," McGee said. "Doctors believe he has pneumonia. He also has a badly broken collarbone. They've just taken him to surgery to insert a small rod in it."

Jenny looked at the concerned and exhausted faces. She knew there was no way any of them would leave until they knew Tony and Gibbs were okay.

"Let's sit down, shall we?" she said. "This may take a few hours."

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Three hours later, both Agents were resting in their rooms. Gibbs had sustained a serious concussion but the CT cleared him of any intracranial bleeding or swelling.

The doctors had admitted him for 48 hours observation and the personnel in the Operations Room at NCIS had started a pool on when Gibbs would check himself out AMA. The smart money chose less than 24 hours.

Tony had a small titanium rod inserted into his collarbone to strengthen it and assist it to heal. His pneumonia had developed as a result of his near drowning and the fact that his lungs, weakened by Y-Pestis, had not been able to expel all of the saltwater he'd inhaled.

His doctors would keep him on oxygen and a strong antibiotic until his lungs started to dry up. He was likely to be in hospital for a week.

Satisfied that both men were out of danger, the rest of the team went home for some well earned rest.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

The following morning Ducky walked into Gibbs' hospital room and found him sitting in a chair staring out the window.

"You really shouldn't be up, Jethro," Ducky scolded mildly. "Come on! Back to bed with you."

Grasping Gibbs arm, Ducky supported him back into the bed.

"Needed to stretch my legs, Duck," Gibbs answered. "Have you checked on DiNozzo this morning?"

"I've just this minute come from Anthony's room," Ducky answered.

"And?"

"He's sleeping again. His lungs have started to respond to the antibiotics. His fever is still a little high but that is quite normal with pneumonia and after a surgical procedure," Ducky explained. "It's early days but his doctors are very pleased with the insertion of the rod in Anthony's clavicle. After some physiotherapy, they expect a full recovery."

Ducky looked at his friend with concern. "But why do I get the feeling that you were not asking me about Anthony's physical condition?"

"I know how he is physically, Duck, I spoke to his doctor this morning," Gibbs said. "Guess I was hoping that you may have had a chance to speak with him?"

"You mean about him leaving NCIS?" Ducky replied.

Gibbs just nodded.

"We had a brief chat before he nodded off. He seems quite determined to leave Jethro," Ducky replied. "Although I didn't press him about his reasons for wanting to go, he still seems rather down to me. Like he's lost his spark. Not at all like the Anthony DiNozzo we've grown to love!"

"He wants to leave because he believes he is not making a difference as an agent." Gibbs said.

"Oh, but that's nonsense! That boy has dedicated his whole career to helping others!" Ducky exclaimed. "Lord knows how many times he has jeopardised his own welfare and safety to prevent an innocent person from being hurt or to keep the unsavoury criminal element off the street. I should know, I've patched him up often enough!"

"You know it and I know it, Duck, but he seems to have forgotten. I've never seen him like this," Gibbs said shaking his head. "I've seen him exhausted, sick, frustrated, pissed off… but I've never seen him as disillusioned as he is now. Not for this long!"

"Then you need to speak to the boy, Jethro," Ducky stressed. "Make him understand what a fine agent he is and the wonderful work he's done as a law enforcement officer _and_ a federal agent. You'll lose him for good if you don't do something."

"I've tried Ducky! You know I'm not one for that sentimental crap!" Gibbs said, his frustration evident. "He's made up his mind! It's like he can't see anything except this damn Burgess fiasco."

"Then if you can't speak with him, Jethro. Do what you do best – show him!"

-oo00oo-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

It was afternoon and Gibbs was dozing in his hospital bed when the door flew open almost tearing it from its hinges.

"Gibbs, you've gotta stop him," Abby sobbed. "He asked me to do him a favour and I said I would. But now I know what it is, wish I'd said no because I don't want to do it! But I can never say no to Tony, Gibbs!"

"Abs, Abs! Slow down," Gibbs said. "What did DiNozzo ask you to do?"

"This!" she said waving a piece of paper in front of him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's the name and phone number of his friend Ben Anderson," Abby said. "He works at Georgetown Uni. Tony wants to see him at 10 o'clock tomorrow. He's going to take the job, Gibbs."

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Gibbs felt the presence of someone in his room even before he was fully awake. He opened his eyes and made out a familiar silhouette sitting in the bedside chair.

"Little late for you to be out, isn't it Tobias," he said.

The FBI man gave a small shrug, "Couldn't sleep."

"So you came here so I could show you how it's done?" Gibbs quipped.

Fornell's lips quirked in a brief smile but he remained uncharacteristically silent.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked.

"Your people did a good job, Jethro," he said, avoiding the question. "Even without you and DiNozzo, they kept their heads and got the job done."

"That's what I train them to do, Tobias," Gibbs answered, his eyes narrowed as he tried to understand what prompted the late night visit.

"They did you proud," Fornell continued. "They're a good team. They're all a little loopy, but they're a very good team."

"No arguments here!" Gibbs nodded.

"You know they'd all walk through fire for you?" Fornell asked.

"That's called being part of a team, Tobias," Gibbs replied.

"No…it's more than that," Fornell told him. "My people respect me and I know they have my back but I doubt that any one of them would show me the kind of loyalty and commitment that your team does you."

"This about Jeffries, Tobias?" Gibbs asked. "Is he why we're talking about loyalty at 2200?"

Tobias Fornell shrugged again, climbed to his feet and adjusted the sling he wore on his left arm.

"Maybe," he admitted walking towards the door, "but if I had your team, I'd do whatever I could to keep them together."

He gave Gibbs a brief nod and left the room.

Gibbs sat in the darkness of his hospital room, contemplating Fornell's words. He knew he had a good team. The best. He wouldn't swap any one of them and DiNozzo was a huge part of it.

He knew that Tony had so much more to give as an agent. Gibbs had tried to convince him of that but lacked the words to shake him from his despondency. Maybe Ducky was right again. He was a man of actions, not words and it was time he took some action to show DiNozzo once and for all that he was a federal agent and a damn good one. He wouldn't let him go without a fight.

He reached for the phone on the bedside table, dialled a number and waited until a sleepy voice answered.

"Hello?"

"McGee, it's me," He said.

"Boss? Is everything okay?" McGee asked, all traces of sleep vanished instantly from his voice.

"I need you to do me a favour," Gibbs told him. "Actually, a few favours."

"Of course," McGee answered. "What can I do?"

"First, come and get me, I'm signing myself out," Gibbs said.

"And second?" McGee asked.

"Bring me some pants. I'm not running around with my damn ass hanging out," He said disconnecting the call.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

A nurse fussing with his IV and nasal cannula startled Tony from his sleep early the next morning. She checked his vitals and made some notes on his chart in the darkened room.

"I know it's early, Agent DiNozzo, but you have a visitor," she said.

"I do?" Tony rasped, wondering whom on earth could be here so early and before visiting hours.

She smiled and nodded her head towards the chair by the door. Tony followed her gaze.

"Boss?" he said.

"'Bout time you woke up DiNozzo. It's 0600," he said.

Noting Gibbs' attire Tony grinned.

"McGee dress you, Boss?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and looked at the sweats and t-shirt he was wearing. Both were blazoned with MIT. "You tell anyone and I'll break your legs."

"It's not me you have to worry about," Tony teased. "Probie would have posted a photo on his Face Book page by now and will probably use it as a screensaver."

After a moments silence, Gibbs spoke.

"You're seeing your friend from Georgetown Uni, this morning?"

"Abby tell you that?" Tony asked.

"Did you ask her not to?"

"It doesn't matter, Boss. It wasn't a secret. I just thought it might be a little easier, that's all," Tony explained.

"So you're taking the job?"

"Yes," Tony said quietly. "My friend Ben's coming by this morning at 10. I'm going to accept the position."

"On the island, you told me that you didn't think your career in law enforcement had made a difference," Gibbs said. "Still feel like that?"

Tony kept his eyes downcast. He struggled to find his voice and could only nod in reply.

Walking to Tony's bedside, Gibbs turned on the lamp and handed Tony a file.

"Boss?"

"Promise me you'll read this, Tony. Every word of it! And finish it before 10 this morning," Gibbs said. "Do I have your word?"

"Yes, Boss, but wha…"

"The people listed in that file would argue that you _have_ made a difference. You made a difference in their lives. Some lives you saved, others you saved from serious injury. Some you gave closure so they could move on with their lives." Tony lifted his head slowly to meet Gibbs' gaze.

"Once you've read this list, if you still want to take the job at Georgetown, do it. You need to so what's right for you," Gibbs told him. "But don't ever forget the difference you made in the lives of everyone of these people. That's something to be very proud of."

Tony stared at the closed door for several moments after Gibbs had gone trying to regain his composure. He slowly opened the file and gasped as he realised he was holding a list of cases that he had personally been instrumental in solving. From his days as a rookie in Peoria, through Philadelphia and Baltimore PD's, to some of the most recent cases as a Senior Field Agent with NCIS, the list contained 158 names.

Just as he promised, Tony read every name in the file, some he had forgotten and others he never would. It took him close to two hours to read through all the names.

As he turned to the final page and read the last name, his eyes widened in surprise and his mouth gaped open.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-

Abby, Ziva, McGee, Ducky and Gibbs all waited anxiously in the hospital lounge. From there, they had a perfect view to Tony's room.

The door had been closed for over an hour, since Tony's friend Ben Anderson had arrived at 10 o'clock.

"Maybe we should knock," Abby said.

"No," Gibbs replied gruffly. "We wait. We'll find out soon enough."

"Do you think he'll really leave, Boss?" McGee asked.

"Don't know McGee. He might."

"Whether Anthony decides to stay or to accept the job, I do hope you will all respect his decision and not make this more difficult than it has to be," Ducky said.

The door opened shortly thereafter and the team walked towards Tony's room.

As they neared the entrance, their hearts dropped as they heard Ben Anderson say.

"So Tony, I'll see you Monday week, then."

"Absolutely, I'll be there bright and early," Tony replied. "Thanks again, man!"

As the team filed past Ducky into Tony's hospital room, Ducky said in a whispered voice.

"Remember what I said. Don't make this harder for Anthony."

While the others gathered close to Tony's bed, Gibbs stood against the back wall, his gut tightened in anxious anticipation. After pleasantries were exchanged with everyone and Ducky asked a few pertinent health questions an awkward silence fell over the room.

"I was thinking about the DVD and pizza nights we used to have." McGee said. "Why don't we start doing that again?"

"Cool."

"That would be nice."

"Sounds good, Probie."

"My word what a good idea!"

More silence.

"Perhaps we can meet for drinks after work, once a fortnight." Ziva added.

"Great."

"I'll be in that."

"Sweet."

"Marvellous."

More silence.

Abby was the first to break. Throwing her arms around Tony's neck and inducing a high-pitched yelp as his tender collarbone was jostled, she sobbed into the crook of his neck.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, Tony. It just won't be the same without you!"

"Abs?" Tony said.

"You're gonna stay in touch, right?" Abby continued. "Just because we won't work together doesn't mean we can't still be friends."

"But Abs.."

"Maybe you can drop by the office and we could have lunch and you can tell me how all your female students have huge crushes on you and I can tell you whether Sister Rosita beat her high game of 260 and…."

"Abby!" Tony said loudly. "I didn't take the job!"

Gibbs face remained impassive but the expressions on the other faces ranged from surprise to confusion, and joy to bewildered.

"We heard you tell your friend that you'd see him next Monday," McGee said.

"That's right, Probie. Monday night football and the Redskins are playing a home game," Tony replied suppressing a yawn.

"So you are staying, yes? Ziva asked.

"I am staying, yes!" Tony answered.

Ziva and Abby both kissed Tony on the cheek while Ducky and McGee offered a hearty handshake.

Gibbs watched Tony suppress another yawn and cleared the room to let him get some rest. He looked at his senior field agent.

"You sure this is what you want?" he asked.

Tony met his gaze confidently. "I'm positive, Boss."

Gibbs held out his hand and clasped Tony's in a firm shake.

"Welcome back, DiNozzo!" he said.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony answered.

Alone in his hospital room, Tony picked up the file that Gibbs had given him earlier and once again, quickly perused the familiar names. He shook his head in disbelief remembering Gibbs' earlier words,

"Don't you ever forget the difference you made in the lives of everyone of these people. That's something to be very proud of."

Then he turned to the last name on the list. He smiled to himself as he ran his thumb over the name. In a bold lettering and familiar handwriting he read the name again.

**LEROY JETHRO GIBBS**

**Oo00oO**

**THE END**

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-

A/N Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! L


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